The Potter Twins and the Sorcerer's Stone
by AoiKuroNekoSan
Summary: When Chrys Potter finds something intriguing, she'll draw it on a napkin. When her brother Harry finds someone in danger, he rushes to save them. Chrys warily follows. Circumstances become even more intriguing, and entirely too dangerous when the twins turn eleven, and they are pushed into the world of magic…
1. Prologue: The Children Who Lived

**So yep, I'm starting a new story...hooray... Anyway, this is will be an AU version of the Sorcerer's Stone.**

**I do not own _Harry Potter..._I do own Chrys though...  
**

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A tall, thin man walked down Privet Drive. His long silver beard swung gently back and forth as he went. He adjusted his semi-circle glasses with one hand, clicking an odd metallic device in the other.

The many streetlights began to dim. The lights appeared to be sucked out of their cages, floating along as little spheres, coming to rest inside the metallic device.

Privet Drive was now a place of reasonable privacy. The thin man took advantage of this, by calmly tilting his head towards the ground, and starting up a polite conversation with a cat.

The feline grew in size, the form twisting blurred until it became a straight backed woman, eyeing the man curiously.

The two continued to converse, arguing mildly until a loud rumble interrupted them.

A third, gigantic, hairy man descended from the sky on a floating motorcycle. He landed with a screech and sobbingly answered the thin man's questions.

Two tiny babies' cuddled against the enormous man's chest, swathed in blankets. He handed the other man and woman each a baby. The woman sighed and placed the first child on the doorstep of Number Four. The man gently rested the other baby beside the first, and then after a pause, lowered a thick envelope between them.

The hairy man kissed each child on the forehead, where two matching scars, shaped like lightning bolts, were visible. He had a few more words with the other two adults, then got back on his motorcycle and flew away.

The woman sighed. "I am still not sure if I agree with you Professor Dumbledore, but if you think it is best, then this is where they will grow up." One of the babies stirred noiselessly, her hand gripping at the other's blankets. The woman's stern glance softened for a moment. "Well, at the very least, they still have each other."

"Indeed, Professor McGonagall." The man's forehead crinkled as he observed the baby girl clutching at the baby boy's hand. "Chrysanthemum Potter will be a light through any darkness young Harry might face…and vice versa, of course." Professor McGonagall gazed at her colleague and friend with a question rising to her lips. She swallowed her words quickly, shaking her head. "I wish them both the best of luck," Dumbledore added quietly, before clicking his light-remover once more.

The process worked in reverse, with the lights flying back to the containers. Professor McGonagall shrunk back into her form of a stiff cat, and Professor Dumbledore walked away.

The Potter twins slept soundly through the night. They had no idea of their history, their importance, or their title. Chrysanthemum and Harry Potter…the Children Who Lived.

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**So, I know it's overused, but I wanted to try my hand on the whole, 'what if Harry had a twin' sort of thing. In this case, her name is Chrysanthemum 'Chrys' Potter. She will be heavily involved with Harry's adventures, but I don't want to make her just a female copy of Harry. She's going to have her own personality (hopefully not too sue-ish). Hope you'll continue to read :)  
**

**AoiKuroNeko  
**


	2. Of Snakes and Punishments

**So here's the first chapter. Ali: Ha. Yeah, I imagined Lily's family had a habit of naming their girls after flowers...and I think it works for a wizarding name as well. Still, Chrys is a lot less of a mouthful. Thanks for reviewing!**

**I don't own _Harry Potter_. Most plot lines and characters have been simply re-imaged through Chrys' eyes. JK Rowling was the one with all the masterful creativity.  
**

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The Potter Twins and the Sorcerer's Stone: 

**Chapter One: **Of Snakes and Punishments.

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Chrys Potter was staring sleepily at the spider webs on the ceiling when something collided with her leg. She looked down and saw the culprit—her twin's foot. Chrys frowned, poking Harry's sleeping form in annoyance.

"Wuzzit?" Harry mumbled as he woke with a jolt.

"You kicked me," Chrys informed him, with an amused smile at his confused expression. Harry blinked his bright green eyes.

"Oh…sorry 'bout that Chrys…I was dreaming…"

"About something strange?" Chrys wondered, gazing interestedly at him. Harry nodded.

"Definitely weird. It had this flying motorcycle in it," Chrys raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, I know…and I feel like I've had the same dream before but—"

A loud knock interrupted him. 'Uh-oh,' Harry mouthed as their Aunt Petunia's shrill voice came ringing through the door.

"You two, up! Now!" She shrieked. Harry and Chrys cringed in unison. Their aunt's voice was not a pleasant sound to be greeted by. "Are you awake yet?" She pestered.

"Almost," Harry called back.

"Well hurry up. I want the bacon cooked and the table set. Everything has to be perfect for Duddy's birthday." Chrys heard the sound of her aunt's retreating footsteps—now that was a delightful noise. Harry made a face that said he'd forgotten all about the momentous occasion of their cousin's birthday. Chrys mimed gagging and Harry grinned, flicking a spider off a pair of socks.

"It's a good thing we're not afraid of bugs," Chrys pointed out. The cupboard under the stairs where the twins slept was like a spider Mecca. Harry shrugged.

"Is it my turn for the bathroom?" He asked with a yawn. Chrys nodded, handing him a reasonably fresh set of clothes.

"You've got the bacon right? Aunt Petunia will kill me if I burn it."

"If you burn it _again_," Harry corrected knowledgably. Chrys did not dispute this. Her cooking abilities (or lack of) had set off the fire alarm more than once.

"Off you go," She said instead, pushing him out the door and shutting it behind him. Once she was dressed, she headed to the kitchen.

Harry was all ready standing in front of the stove, poking at the bacon with a spatula.

"Brush your hair!" Uncle Vernon said, glancing up at her as she walked in.

"Good morning to you too," Chrys muttered under her breath. "I'm surprised he doesn't know by now that our hair is completely untamable," She whispered to Harry as she got out a stack of dishes.

"It's just the way we are," Harry agreed. "Uncle Vernon can bark about haircuts all he wants, but the hair has a mind of it's own."

"A very stubborn mind," Chrys yawned again. She slipped a dish under Uncle Vernon's newspaper, he glared, she smiled brightly in defense. He shook his head and went back to his paper. Chrys' stomach growled as the scent of bacon wafted over to her. She leaned over Harry's shoulder and sniffed as he plopped it onto a plate. "Do you think I'll get a piece?" She asked him wistfully.

"Half if you're lucky," Harry said after thinking it over. "Aunt Petunia counted them when I started cooking." He picked up the carton of eggs.

"Well, you can have my half if I ever receive it," She said, pinching his skinny side as she passed by with the silverware.

"Chrys!" He warned, as she jostled the eggs. She gave him an apologetic salute. "Besides," Harry added as she came back, leaning on the counter as she folded some napkins. "You need to eat too." She waved his concern away. She was well aware that the two of them were skinnier than toothpicks. Both agreed that being squashed up in a cupboard did nothing good to their all ready diminutive statures, but Harry tended to be more self-conscious about his appearance.

The twins had similarly scruffy dark hair, but Chrys' was longer in length and lighter in color. Their thick round glasses were nearly the same, save for the tape around the bridge of Harry's pair, courtesy of Dudley's habit of punching him in the face. Luckily Harry was an ace sprinter. Chrys was an average runner, but then again in the house she didn't have as much to run from. Dudley mostly pulled her hair, which was annoying, but not as bad as the possibility of a broken nose. It seemed, as far as girls were concerned, Dudley's bullying had never leveled up from a toddler's actions. Speaking of girls, Harry seemed to think his almond green eyes would fit better on the face of a female. When Chrys said she thought his eyes were pretty, he rolled them and told her she'd proven his point. Apparently he preferred her hazel eyes, which according to him were 'more manly.' Chrys had spent the entire day flexing her non-existent muscles at him.

The only trait Harry liked about himself was the lightning shaped scar on his forehead. Chrys had an identical mark on her brow that she was not as fond of. She thought the lightning bolts were creepy looking and too mysterious for her liking. Harry agreed with her on the mysterious aspect, and had asked their aunt early on were the scars came from. She told them it happened in the car crash that killed their parents.

"It's highly improbable to get identical injuries in an accident," Chrys had said doubtfully. Harry thought about this.

"Highly improbable, sure, but it's not like it's impossible. We're living proof after all…Though, I suppose Aunt Petunia could be lying. The scars could've come from something else."

Chrys nodded. "I wouldn't put it past her…they could just be really odd birthmarks."

"Could be," Harry said bitterly, rubbing his forehead. "We know so little about ourselves that anything could be possible." Chrys had asked Aunt Petunia several times about the enigma that was their parents. Aunt Petunia reminded her with a sharp slap that asking questions was not allowed.

"If anything is possible, then anything is possible," Chrys reasoned. Harry gave her a 'well, duh!' look. Chrys coughed. "I mean, good things are possible too Harry."

"Good things like stealing Dudley's licorice?" He teased her. Chrys' obsession for the sweet would never rest.

She bumped lightly against his shoulder. "Or something even better."

Harry gasped theatricality. "Something better than licorice—impossible!" Chrys laughed.

"Well, I think we're good looking," Chrys said, patting Harry on the shoulder as he continued frying the eggs. Harry just blinked at her, he was used to her randomness by now.

"We've got a very special day planed for our baby angel!" Aunt Petunia squealed from out in the hallway. Dudley grunted in return.

"Pig in a wig alert," Harry whispered as their blubbery, watery eyed, thick haired cousin waddled into the room. Chrys suppressed a snort, and grabbed the plate of bacon, placing it on the table before Aunt Petunia could complain. Harry did the same with the eggs. Petunia however, seemed more occupied with watching Dudley struggle to count his presents. With some difficulty, Harry and Chrys squeezed into their seats. Between the gigantic stack of presents, Vernon's bulk, and Dudley butt, Chrys was surprised anything else fit in the room.

Chrys rolled her eyes as Dudley complained about having less presents than last year, and Aunt Petunia rushed to rectify the situation. Unsurprisingly the food was finished extremely quickly. The phone rang and Aunt Petunia popped up to answer it, while Harry and Uncle Vernon watched Dudley unwrap his presents. Chrys was bored. She fiddled with her napkin, and then grinned mischievously. Chrys sketched a pig in a wig, a long necked horse, a no neck walrus, and two handsome stick bugs all sitting around the table. She snuck the drawing over to her brother. Harry started laughing so hard they almost missed Aunt Petunia coming back in. She announced that Mrs. Figg, the neighbor who frequently watched over the twins when they were shoved to the side, had broken her leg. Mrs. Figg was a nice enough lady, but she was almost as obsessed with cats as Chrys was with licorice. Except Chrys' licorice disappeared fairly quickly. Mrs. Figg's cats stuck around, and sat on Chrys' head. Harry was no better off, as Mrs. Figg seemed to have an endless amount of cat pictures to present to him. Furthermore, the house always smelt horribly of cabbage.

Of course, the unpleasantness of the house made it the perfect place to put Harry and Chrys, whenever the Dursely's wanted to go somewhere fun.

That had been the plan for today. Harry and Chrys were supposed to be up to their necks in cats, cabbage smell and more cats of the photographic variety, but this idea was now quashed. Harry and Chrys exchanged a slightly guilty, mostly grateful grin for the breaking of Mrs. Figg's leg.

Chrys' guilt increased steadily as Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia hurriedly discussed other options. Each new idea was more horrible than the last. Harry suggested aloud that the two of them could just be left in the house. Aunt Petunia shook off this idea with a sour expression on her face. She expected them to leave the house in ruins. Harry told her they wouldn't destroy the house, but Chrys thought that wasn't entirely truthful. If she stayed in the kitchen much longer, she'd find some way to blow the house to bits.

Petunia suggested they leave the twins in the car.

"Do you think they'd even crack a window?" Harry whispered worriedly. Chrys wrinkled her nose in frustration.

"We aren't dogs," She hissed at him.

It turned out Uncle Vernon's car was too shiny new for the unkempt twins to be allowed to sit there alone.

Dudley began to throw a fit. Aunt Petunia flung herself to his rescue. Harry shook his head at this. Chrys agreed. Dudley wasn't even that skilled of an actor.

A distraction, in the form of Piers Polkiss walked through the door. Chrys shuddered as Piers gave her a rat like smile. Piers liked to force people to stay still so that Dudley could hit them more effectively.

Dudley stopped crying, not wanting to look weak in front of his friend. Mrs. Polkiss frowned grumpily at all of them, telling them to have fun at the zoo. When she left Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon began whispering to each other.

Chrys started washing the dishes, keeping an ear out for her aunt and uncle's conversation.

"Mrs. Polkiss seemed to expect those two to come as well," Petunia said in a hushed voice. The adult Dursleys were always very worried about the expectations of 'normal society.'

"Well, unless we can think of somewhere else to put them, I guess they'll have to come along," Vernon grumbled.

Chrys gave Harry a thumbs up.

Before they left, Uncle Vernon gestured the twins to the side. He spewed out a warning, and the old reliable threat of locking them in their cupboard for an extended period of time. They knew Uncle Vernon was not one to bluff, so they nodded. Harry spoke for the both of them, saying that they wouldn't do anything.

Uncle Vernon gave them a suspicious glance before squeezing himself into the driver's seat.

Harry and Chrys waited outside for the other three to come out of the house.

"…No one ever believes me," Harry said. Chrys patted him on the shoulder.

"Unexplainable stuff does tend to happen around us. Maybe you're secretly Loki, the Norse god of mischief."

Harry squinted, trying to remember something. "Isn't that the god who gets snake venom dripped into his eyes?" Chrys clapped at a job well done.

"Yep."

"Well then excuse me if I don't find the comparison flattering."

"You're excused."

"Strange things do happen around us though…" Harry said thoughtfully. Chrys nodded. Over the years the two of them had been almost magically delivered from certain threats.

There were some silly things, like the time Aunt Petunia had given Harry a monk like shaved haircut. Overnight his hair had been returned to its normal shaggy glory. Chrys had thought it was funny, but Aunt Petunia seemed frightened, and Harry was locked in the cupboard for an entire week. Chrys slept out on the couch, and slipped self-made comics through the slits in the cupboard door so he wouldn't die of boredom.

Another time Aunt Petunia ordered Chrys to wash Uncle Vernon's car before he returned home the next day. Harry was sick, so Chrys worked all by herself, scrubbing as vigorously as she could, but the bird poop stains just wouldn't budge. Chrys started cleaning the inside, thinking she could at least do that, and ended up falling asleep on the floor. When she woke up the car was perfectly clean, but had somehow turned a brilliant shade of pink. Chrys had gotten a week and a half for that. Uncle Vernon thought Chrys had stolen some paint (he knew she didn't have the money) and given the exterior of his precious car a makeover. Chrys was just as baffled by it as everyone else was, but at least Harry managed to sneak some licorice through the vents.

In a more serious turn of events, when Harry was running from Dudley's gang one day, innocently trying not to get pummeled, he suddenly found himself on the roof of the school building. That very same day, Chrys' head was about to be shoved into a toilet by the equally vicious female version of Dudley's gang, when the pipes promptly burst and soaked all of her tormentors to the bone. Harry insisted that the wind had caught him and carried him up there. Chrys argued that she was not responsible for the school's shoddy plumbing. The fact was though, as skinny as he was, Harry was not nearly light enough to be lifted by the wind alone, and while the other girls had been spewed by who knows what, Chrys had stayed completely dry.

Though, the two of them weren't always blamed for these mysteries. Aunt Petunia had a horrible sense of fashion and always tried to force the ugliest items of clothing onto Harry and Chrys. Once she wanted Harry to wear this orange puffball sweater, and Chrys to wear a bunny patterned dress. Both items shrunk smaller and smaller until they would only fit actual dolls, rather than the human sized ones Aunt Petunia seemed to think the twins were. Aunt Petunia blamed this on the wash, so there had been no cupboard punishment that time.

Chrys hoped they would get off scot-free this time as well. There was not a great likelihood of this, as the twins were excellent at wearing down Uncle Vernon's all ready thin patience. Still, Chrys wanted to try being hopeful.

The trip started out with moderate success. Chrys sat next to Harry, who sat next to Dudley. The poor twins were squished up against the wall so tightly, Chrys was surprised they didn't mash into one pancake flat person.

Then Harry had to go make it even worse by bringing up his dream about a flying motorcycle. Uncle Vernon hated motorcycles, but it seemed like he loathed the idea of them flying more than anything. Chrys sighed as he bellowed at them. Harry must have momentarily forgotten that Uncle Vernon would break their eardrums with his disapproval any time she or Harry brought up anything even slightly out of the ordinary.

When they arrived at the zoo, Chrys stared with sad wide eyes at Dudley and Piers' enormous chocolate ice creams. The nice vendor lady seemed to notice, because she smiled down at the twins and asked which ice creams they would like. Aunt Petunia hurriedly bought them the cheapest thing, one lemon ice each, so that no one would stare.

Harry and Chrys hung back from the rest of the group, happily munching on their ice pops. "It's not bad," Harry said appreciatively. Chrys nodded.

"And the animals look amazing," She said, her fingers itching to sketch some of them. She had ran out of napkins though, so she'd have to wait until lunch when she could stock up again.

"Definitely," Harry pointed at a gorilla. "Hey look, that one's like Dudley, only not blonde." Chrys giggled.

During lunch Chrys sketched out as much as she could from memory, stuffing her pockets with as many napkins as could fit for later. Aunt Petunia gave her disapproving stare (her normal look when studying Chrys) but was cut off from saying anything when Dudley fussed loudly about his second dessert of the day not having enough cream on it. So Dudley got a third dessert, and Harry and Chrys eagerly shared the rest of his second one.

By the time they reached the reptile house, Harry and Chrys were smiling at each other, actually enjoying themselves for a change. Chrys read the sign of the snake Dudley was interested in. It was a Boa Constrictor, the largest, strongest snake ever. At the moment it appeared to be snoring away. Dudley was rather rude to the snake, but he left quickly, which was the best anyone could ever hope for from Dudley.

Harry gazed at the snake. "He must be lonely," He murmured. Chrys reached down and squeezed his hand. She knew Harry was empathizing with the snake, though she thought the two of them were slightly better off. They had been locked up many times after all but at least they had each other. The poor snake was all-alone in his confinement.

Chrys glanced apologetically at the snake.

Suddenly the snake stirred. He rose up, stretching his neck like a human would after waking from a long nap. Chrys stared. She swore the snake had just yawned. Then, unmistakably, it winked. She looked to Harry, to see if he was getting this. Harry glanced around and then winked back at the snake. Somehow the snake seemed to be communicating to them that there was no need to apologize, he was used to that sort of thing. Harry said that must be really aggravating. The snake nodded fervently.

"Would you mind terribly if I drew you?" Chrys asked as politely as possible. "Then I'll have something to remember you by."

The snake smiled without lips, and quite plainly told her he didn't mind at all, that it sounded rather nice in fact. Chrys gratefully rummaged through her pockets for a remaining napkin. Harry continued to have a well-mannered conversation with their new Brazilian friend as Chrys carefully drew his outline.

Suddenly Piers' twitchy face appeared out of nowhere and screamed for Uncle Vernon and Dudley to come over. Dudley rushed as fast as his fat body could move. Once he caught sight of the snake he shoved Chrys out of the way, punching Harry in the chest as he went. Harry fell roughly to the hard ground. Chrys angrily bent down to see if he was all right, and then stopped still in shock. The lights in the snake enclosure suddenly switched off. Dudley and Piers leaned closer, trying to see through the darkness when…

Chrys' napkin drawings fluttered onto Harry's lap as he sat up with a gasp. The two of them stared in amazement at the scene before them.

The glass had inexplicably flashed out of existence. Piers and Dudley fell with a thud into the habitat, screaming as they went.

Other shouts joined the boys' cries of fear, as the snake slithered out of its cage, onto the floor. Some people ran for the exits, others snapped pictures with the cameras that weren't allowed in this section of the zoo.

Not that the zookeeper could call them out on this, he was too busy gaping at the place where the glass used to be.

The snake thanked the twins in a happy hiss before slithering away. Chrys laughed as the snake feigned biting at the bullies' ankles on his way out.

She stopped laughing immediately when Uncle Vernon turned to look at them. The zoo administrators apologized extensively, but Uncle Vernon stared all the while at the twins, his eyes narrowed. Chrys didn't see what the problem was. Dudley and Piers were fine. They were relishing in the chance to tell heroic tales of their near escape from a 'bloody death.' Even the shocked Aunt Petunia got better once the zookeeper gave her some tea (which Chrys suspected was spiked).

Chrys and Harry hoped that Uncle Vernon would give up on punishing them today. However, before Piers left he gave their uncle the perfect excuse.

Once Uncle Vernon heard the twins had been talking to the snake, he waited until they were alone, and then rounded on them. He was so excited about the chance to punish them that he could hardly speak.

He shoved the twins into their cupboard and yelled incoherently at them. Then he locked the door.

"How much was it this time?" Chrys asked. Harry could understand furious-Vernon-ese much better than she could.

"Not sure, but he definitely said no meals," Harry told her miserably.

Chrys heard Aunt Petunia running around, searching for the brandy to give to their uncle.

"Should someone with blood pressure as high as his really be drinking?" Chrys said lightheartedly. Harry just sighed, hanging his head.

"This is the worst."

"Worse than the green flash?" Chrys said softly. Harry looked up at her with a deep frown.

"Second worst," He amended. The earliest memory either of them could recall was a flash of green light and a painful burning sensation on their heads. They supposed that was the car crash that had killed their parents. "I wonder what they looked like," He added more quietly. This was not the first time he had asked this.

Chrys bit her lip. "We could search for photographs again, once we get out of this place. I'll run interference and you can sort through the closet…" She trailed off at the look on Harry's face. They hadn't looked for photos for a long time. To be honest, they'd both given up any hope that they would ever know what their parents had looked like. At any rate, there were no pictures of them in Number Four, Privet Drive.

"…Remember we used to pretend there was a secret relative somewhere out there who would come and take us away?" Harry reminisced, leaning against the cupboard wall. Chrys smiled sadly. No one ever came.

"Yeah. Remember those strangely dressed strangers who used to watch us…and when we turned around again they were gone?"

"I remember. One of them took off his hat and bowed to me. Another shook our hands and then silently walked away…"

"This one lady in green smiled and waved. She looked nice. Aunt Petunia didn't like them though." Chrys leaned against Harry's shoulder, caught up in the memories.

"Hmmm… she really didn't." Harry patted her head. The two of them sat in a thoughtful silence, wondering how long the door would stay locked this time around.

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**So yep, I hope anyone who reads this will like it (and review?). Five points to whoever catches the Percy Jackson reference... I borrowed an idea of Rick Riordan. I would appreciate some critiques as well. I'd like to know how people feel about Chrys (if she fits into Harry's world).**


	3. Of Letters and Changes

**I recently edited this chapter, posted a new version and then forgot what I had written in my author's comment section. Sorry about that.**

**All the usual disclaimers apply.**

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The Potter Twins and the Sorcerer's Stone: 

**Chapter Two: **Of Letter and Changes

Their recent stint in the cupboard was the most drawn-out Chrys could remember.

"We've been in here so long that I've started to look forward to school," Chrys sighed. Harry stared blankly at her like 'who are you and what have you done with my sister?'

"You've got to be kidding me," he said aloud. Chrys shook her head.

"Wish I was, wish I was."

In some ways school was not much different from Number Four Privet Drive. Though the adults at school were even less attentive than the Dursleys. The teachers droned on about their subjects, never taking time to watch what was happening around them. So children ran rapid without fear of the never-coming consequences. Dudley and his gang ruled the male half of the school, while Meredith and her crowd handled the girls. Chrys did not like being handled.

Still, it was summer. The sun was bright and warm, and significantly better than the dust and gloom that radiated off the walls of the cupboard. Eventually summer vacation came, and Uncle Vernon reluctantly stopped locking the door, letting the twins out into the wild.

The outdoors was preferable to any other place available to the twins. Dudley's gang was so enamored with his massiveness that they showed up at Privet Drive, every, single, day. As soon as they turned up, Harry would steer Chrys clear out of the house. He did not want to take the chance that the boys might get bored with whatever they were doing and use the twins as a form of entertainment instead.

Normally Chrys might drag Harry off to the library. The librarians kind of hated her because she sometimes got ink smudges on the pages, or mindlessly doodled in the corners. Though even with the old ladies glaring suspiciously at her, Chrys determinedly checked out as many books as she could carry. Her favorite stories to read were those where dragons spoke in riddles and siblings got whisked off to far away lands. However, because of the recent fiasco, Aunt Petunia had confiscated her library card. The frustrated Chrys agreed that there was no point in going to the library if she was not allowed to check out books.

So Harry and Chrys took long walks around the neighborhood. They talked about the next school year, when they would be finally moving on to a new school.

"Stonewall might be okay," Harry said encouragingly. "At least Dudley and Piers won't be there."

"I guess…" Chrys was not convinced. It was good that Piers and Dudley were going to Smeltings, Uncle Vernon's alma mater, but still… "With a name like Stonewall, you can't expect much."

There was also Dudley's amusing comment, that sticking people's heads down toilets was common practice at Stonewall. Chrys had avoided this all the times it was attempted or her, and was quite determined to keep her record clean. Though when Dudley offered to help them practice, Harry repliedthat stuffing Dudley's head into their toilet might make the poor toilet ill. The twins high-fived and ran off before the gears in Dudley's head had even started to turn. That was a fun moment.

The impending change of schools provided Chrys with another fun moment, when Aunt Petunia dragged Dudley off to London to buy the Smeltings uniform. Mrs. Figg babysat the twins again. Surprisingly she had broken her leg by colliding with one of her cats, which made her much less keen on them than she had been before. Chrys munched on a slice of very stale chocolate cake as Harry fiddled with the television.

Later, Harry and Chrys shared a laugh at Dudley's new outfit. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were so proud that Dudley was growing up…Chrys was just pleased Dudley had found a way to look even stupider than usual.

The next morning Chrys got her comeuppance when she entered the kitchen. Aunt Petunia was stirring a foul smelling bucket of clothes in murky water. Harry, always the daring one, asked her what it was. Aunt Petunia somehow resisted the urge to tell him off for asking a question, and informed them that it was their Stonewall uniforms. Harry idly mentioned he didn't realize the uniforms were supposed to be so wet. Chrys sniggered, but Aunt Petunia looked vindictive. Apparently she was dying some of her and Dudley's old clothes grey, which was the Stonewall policy.

"Oh karama…" Chrys shook her head wearily. She shouldn't have made fun of Dudley, no matter how funny he'd looked. Now she and Harry were going to look equally as bad, if not worse.

"I'll look like a wrinkly elephant," Harry murmured under his breath.

"At least you won't be a frilly elephant," Chrys whispered back, wondering why Aunt Petunia was so fond of lace.

When Dudley and Uncle Vernon came in for breakfast, they looked mildly put off by the stench. Chrys could imagine arriving on the first day of school, and having everyone literally turn their noses up. She hoped the smell would fade by the time school started. It would be one less thing to worry about. She leaned sleepily on the table, doodling what Harry would look like as an elephant.

"Sit up," Aunt Petunia snapped. Chrys sat up, watching Harry, Uncle Vernon and Dudley argue about who was going to get the mail. Of course Harry lost the quarrel. Chrys frowned as Dudley tried to hit her brother with his new official Smeltings walking stick. Dudley missed, and turned his glance to Chrys. She glared at him and got up to follow Harry.

Uncle Vernon had told all of them that the sticks were for students to hit each other when the teachers weren't watching. This was supposed to be a character improving exercise. Chrys thought this said a lot about Uncle Vernon's character.

When she reached the door Harry was all ready walking back towards her, an astonished look on his face as he sorted through the mail.

"What's up?" Chrys asked curiously. Harry appeared to be so shocked he couldn't speak. He just nudged one the letters into her hands. Chrys' eyes widened. "I got mail? But I never get mail…" She looked at Harry who was staring at another envelope that matched her own, except with his name on it.

"Who would write us?" Harry wondered aloud.

"No idea…it could be the library I guess, but Aunt Petunia confiscated my card so I haven't been able to check out any books lately—besides how would anyone know about our cupboard?" She pointed out the address, which quite specifically stated '_the cupboard under the stairs_.'

"Right, also, look at this," Harry turned his letter over. There was a fancy wax seal, purple colored, with some sort of insignia on it.

"Mysterious," Chrys proclaimed, wiggling her fingers in an attempted spooky manner. Harry ignored her, intent on examining the letter.

In fact, they were both so focused on the conundrum that they didn't realize they had all ready arrived in the kitchen. Uncle Vernon made a joke about them checking for bombs because they had taken so long. Harry dropped what looked like a bill and a postcard on the table next to their uncle, and carefully started opening his letter.

Chrys was still staring at her own piece of mail, as if unsure what to do with it. Uncle Vernon had no such uncertainties. He tore open the bill, and skimmed the postcard. From the sound of the snort, he judged the bill to be rather high. Apparently the postcard was from his atrocious sister, Marge. He started telling Aunt Petunia about it, when Dudley suddenly interrupted to tell on Harry. Uncle Vernon ripped the nearly opened letter out of Harry's hands before he'd even had the chance to see what was inside.

Harry desperately reached to get it back, saying that it was _his _letter.

Uncle Vernon said he found that unlikely. His face colored unpleasantly as his anger rose. Despite her dislike of him, Chrys found herself wondering, yet again, about his blood pressure. Really, how was it humanly possible for a person's face to turn that many different colors in under a minute?

Uncle Vernon shakily called for Aunt Petunia. Their aunt interestedly read the first part of the letter, and then froze up in fear. She spun around, spotted the matching envelope in Chrys' hand, and stole it from her. Chrys tried to protest but Aunt Petunia didn't seem to hear her. Their aunt looked as if she might choke on her emotions, or at the very least faint.

She made frightened exclamations as she and Vernon huddled together.

Dudley hit his father with his stick, frustrated at being left out. He yelled that he wanted to read the letters.

His annoyance was nothing in comparison to Harry's furry.

Uncle Vernon told the three children to get out, in an extremely forced tone.

Both Harry and Dudley refused, still wanting to see the letter. Uncle Vernon grabbed them by the scruffs of their necks, like they were misbehaving kittens, and quite literally threw them out of the room. Chrys confusedly followed without saying a word.

Uncle Vernon slammed the door behind her. Dudley and Harry glared at her for not putting up a fight, and then began to struggle against each other, arguing about who would get to listen at the keyhole. Chrys thought they looked like Tom and Jerry, rolling around in a cloud of dust and thrashing limbs.

Once they settled down, Harry with his glasses knocked off, peeked through the crack at the bottom of the door, while Dudley took his 'rightfully earned' spot at the keyhole. Chrys pressed her ear directly to the wood of the door, able to make out a bit that way. Then the three kids had an odd moment of companionship, gathering together to discuss what Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had been talking about.

"Mummy said something 'bout people watchin' us, like in a spy show or something…" Dudley said laboriously.

Harry nodded. "Makes sense, how else would they know about our cupboard?"

"But, who would be watching us?" Chrys wanted to know. Harry shrugged. Dudley squinted his eyes tightly, as if he were actually trying to use his head for once. "They seemed to suspect someone specific," She continued thoughtfully. "Aunt Petunia wanted to write back, and as far as I saw there was no return address, so she must have some previous knowledge."

"Dad wanted to ignore it," Dudley muttered, his eyes still squeezed shut. He opened them and rolled his large shoulders. "If dad's not worried, it shouldn't be too bad." With that, he made his way over to one of the many televisions, losing his interest in the letters.

Chrys and Harry exchanged a look. "I beg to differ," Chrys said quietly. "They both seemed terrified, and Uncle Vernon definitely said those people are dangerous. He didn't want them to come into the house. He also said he and Aunt Petunia 'swore to stamp out that nonsense.' Stamp out what though? Wish I knew…"

Harry sighed. "Can't mean anything good…I just wish I'd had a chance to see what was in those letters. Though I guess, curiosity killed the cat…"

"…and satisfaction brought it back," Chrys added, smiling mischievously. "Admit it, you still want to delve into the mystery."

"…Of course I do," Harry agreed, his eyes shining with determination.

Later that night, the twins were discussing how to best wheedle information out of the Dursleys, when Uncle Vernon suddenly got back from work, and did something completely unique for him.

Uncle Vernon pushed himself through the door of the cupboard, apparently coming for a visit.

At that moment, Harry made a stupid decision and took the direction approach. He ignored the Dursleys' hatred for questions (or maybe he was trying to utilize it) and asked where the letters were, and whom they had been from. Uncle Vernon told a blatant lie. He said the letters were sent to them by mistake.

"I burned them," He finished shortly. Chrys saddened immediately. Harry's anger grew. He argued that clearly it was not a mistake, as it had their cupboard in the address. Uncle Vernon roared at them to be quiet. Then he got an unusually thoughtful look on his face, which twisted into a horrible smile. Chrys was not sure which expression was more disturbing. Uncle Vernon then preceded (in grabbled, slow paced words) to tell them that cupboard was getting a little too small for the twins, so instead he was very generously moving them into Dudley's second bedroom.

Chrys narrowed her eyes. That was a suspicious offer. Harry seemed to think so too. He asked why but was cut off by the normal declaration of the abhorrence of questions.

Harry and Chrys sighed unanimously. They gathered up their small amount of stuff, and trudged grumpily up the stairs.

"You'd think I'd be happy about getting more space, but this just feels like a trick…and I don't like being tricked by stupid people," Chrys mumbled.

"I'd rather have that letter than Dudley's room," Harry agreed.

Still, Dudley's second bedroom was far from being a horrible place. Sure it was cluttered with all of the stuff Dudley had broken (which was a lot), but it was still roomier than a cupboard under the stairs. Chrys disliked the idea of sleeping in closer proximity to the Dursleys but…

"Bunk beds," Harry pointed out with some excitement. His anger drained away. Chrys grinned. "I call top bunk!" Harry cried scurrying up the ladder and bouncing onto the bed. Chrys laughed. His enthusiasm was encouraging.

"I don't mind the bottom bunk. Knowing me I'd probably roll off the bed while I slept. The bottom bunk will be less of a fall." Harry leaned over and nodded at her. "Besides, this way we won't kick each other in the face anymore."

"That's definitely a plus," Harry agreed. They had miraculously fit two beds into the cupboard, but even though they were placed on opposite ends, the distance was short enough so that even Harry's stubby legs could reach across and accidentally kick Chrys in the face.

Dudley's whining voice echoed from downstairs. He was begging his parents to give him back his second room. He didn't want the twins in there, he _needed_ that room. Chrys thought most of his protest was coming from the fact he was finally being denied something he wanted.

"Imagine needing two whole rooms to store all your things," she thought aloud, shaking her head in amazement. She stood up and blew a long breath across the bookshelf. Dust scattered into the air and Harry sneezed loudly. "Sorry about that." Chrys removed one of the books and opened it. It made a nice creaking noise, proof that this was the first time it had ever been opened. "Maybe I don't mind being tricked, some of these look interesting." She bent over and studied the shelf some more. "Ooh look, there's even an empty notebook and a fountain pen…oh wait, that's broken…hmm…maybe I can fix it. What do you think Harry?" She looked up and saw her brother slumped over, snoring softly. Whether he had passed out from sheer exhaustion, or the comfort of a full sized mattress, Chrys could not be sure.

Either way, she was happy he had a chance to rest. She climbed the ladder, carefully tucked him in, and went on exploring the rest of the room. Maybe she would come across some functioning art supplies.

When Chrys woke up the next morning, the house was unusually quiet.

"Nice timing," Harry commended her. He was hanging upside down off the top bunk. "Dudley's finally stopped fussing."

"And the result?" Chrys asked curiously, stifling a yawn.

"Nothing at all," Harry seemed, reasonably, surprised by this. "He vomited on purpose, sent his poor tortoise crashing through the greenhouse roof, and hit Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia with his Smelting stick, but they still didn't budge."

"Wow, those two must be really serious if they're not caving to the darling son's demands," Chrys said. Harry did a little flip off the bed, landing on his feet. "Show off." Chrys rolled her eyes. Harry just grinned. Chrys noted he was all ready dressed. She started lazily sorting through her clothes for a clean shirt.

"Well then, I'm going downstairs. Maybe I'll catch them talking about it and learn something new."

"Good luck." Chrys waved him off.

As Chrys got downstairs she had to flatten herself against the wall while Dudley rushed passed her to get the mail. He announced the arrival of two more letters to his father, who made a squawked, and attempted to grab the envelopes from his son. Dudley and Uncle Vernon scuffled for the prize, neither willing to relinquish. Harry peeked his head out from the kitchen, and after a thoughtful look, ran at Uncle Vernon with a sort of war cry.

Chrys watched her twin dangling off of her uncle's beefy neck while Uncle Vernon struggled against Dudley's wildly flailing arms.

Shortly, Aunt Petunia came out of the kitchen as well, probably wanting to see what all of the noise was about. She was wiping her hands on a cloth, and promptly dropped it when she saw the brawl.

"Boys," Chrys said with a sigh. Aunt Petunia glanced down at her, tightly pursing her lips, looking like for once she agreed.

Eventually Uncle Vernon emerged victorious, though very short of breath. All three males were bruised up from Dudley's Smeltings stick. Once Uncle Vernon could speak he ordered the twins back to their cupboard—er, room, and asked Dudley to leave him alone as well.

"So I just managed to spot the address while you three were tussling. The mysterious letter senders knew about our change in bedroom situation…how could they possibly know that?" Chrys asked a little nervously, as the two of them walked up the stairs. Harry frowned, stretching his arms, which probably felt rather sore.

"We should've just read them in the hallway yesterday, stupid of us," He muttered self-deprecatingly.

"Well, I couldn't have. I so shocked my hands weren't functioning properly," Chrys said with a shrug. Harry ran a hand through his hair.

"That's all the more reason to be prepared this time. Listen, I have a plan," He said, as his hair stood on end. Chrys deflated slightly. She'd missed yet another meal, and she really didn't think she could deal with one of her brother's notorious plans on an empty stomach.

Harry and Chrys worked together to fix the alarm clock Chrys had found last night. Harry set it for six in the morning. When it rang Chrys sleepily opened her eyes, to see him completely awake and pulling on his thickest pair of Vernon-socks.

"Cross your fingers," Harry whispered as they tiptoed down the stairs.

"Give me a sec and I'll join you," she whispered back. While Harry moved towards the front door, Chrys snuck into the kitchen, stealing a piece of bread to fill her aching stomach.

A roaring scream ripped through the air.

Chrys sprinted out into the hallway. She squinted through the darkness, trying to catch a glimpse of her brother. Then the light flickered on. Uncle Vernon was standing next to light switch, one hand holding a sleeping bag up around his waist, his other hand rubbing his red nose.

He yapped angrily at Harry for quite some time. Harry hung his head as he filed into the kitchen, putting water up for Uncle Vernon's tea. Chrys nibbled on the rest of her bread, trying to be sympathetic, but ending up laughing.

"I'm sorry," She said between giggles as Harry frowned at her. "It's just… hilarious that you somehow managed to step on his face. Tell me, was it as squishy as it looks?"

Harry gave her an incredulous look. "Well yes it was…I thought it was some sort of giant slug at first. The letters though," He said, trying to refocus her attention on the more important matter. "There must have been nearly six of them this time."

Chrys nodded. "I saw…and also I saw him tear them into teeny little pieces." They slipped into a mournful silence that was quickly interrupted by the whistle of the teapot. Harry poured the water carefully, yawning. "Come on Harry," she said gently. "Let's give Uncle Squishy Face his tea and then catch a few more winks."

Later that morning, Chrys was surprised to see that Uncle Vernon hadn't gone to work. Instead, he was using his valuable time to board up the mail slot. Aunt Petunia carefully pointed out that there might be some complications with this 'solution,' but Uncle Vernon waved her excuses away. He insisted that 'those people' had a lack of common sense. Chrys thought this was a bit rich of him to say, while he was using a slice of fruitcake to hammer a nail in.

Chrys had never valued her quick counting skills so much. When Uncle Vernon's plan was foiled, and letters leaked through every crack in the door and windows, Chrys was able to notice how many there were before he confiscated them. "It was twenty-four this time, which probably twelve each," she whispered to Harry as they watched Uncle Vernon put his next idea into action.

"That's a lot of letters Chyrs, but at the moment I'm more worried if we'll ever be able to get out of the house," Harry muttered. Chrys eyed the front and back door, both of which were completely sealed shut. She gulped.

"I see your point…. Also his dreadful humming is wearing on my nerves." She held her hands over her ears, accidentally dropping her pen. Uncle Vernon jumped nearly a foot in the air, and glanced around suspiciously to find the source of the noise.

"At least things can't get much worse," Harry sighed. Chrys glared at him.

"You are not allowed to say that, whenever you do all hell breaks loose."

Chrys was right. By Saturday the tension in Number 4 Privet Drive was palpable. A flustered milkman delivered the eggs to Aunt Petunia through the living room window. When Harry cracked them open to make breakfast, rather than yolks and whites, letters came spilling out…the amount of letters had doubled again.

Uncle Vernon called the post office and the milk company to complain, but no one knew anything about the strange goings on.

Aunt Petunia distractedly shredded the letters in her food processor as Harry searched through the refrigerator for something else to cook. Since they had been stuck in the house, Aunt Petunia had no time to shop. Dudley's stomach had been growling louder than a bear. Half-grumpily, and half-amazed, Dudley asked Harry who on earth wanted too contact the twins so badly.

"We have no deeper understanding of it than you Duddey," Chrys muttered. Aunt Petunia flinched and looked away. Chrys scratched her head in deep thought.

The next day Aunt Petunia and Harry managed to throw some food together for a heartier breakfast, and everyone became a bit more cheerful. They all slouched in their chairs, and Uncle Vernon had dark circles under his eyes, but he chatted happily enough.

He reminded the twins that there was no post on Sundays. Chrys was so annoyed that she decided not to point out that he was spreading marmalade on his newspaper. Uncle Vernon started using gleeful expletives, and Aunt Petunia opened her mouth to correct him, but a rushing noise interrupted both of them.

Harry gestured excitedly at the letters that were pelting Uncle Vernon on the head. Aunt Petunia and Chrys ducked, but Harry jumped up, trying to grab one…

Uncle Vernon screeched at him, throwing a meaty arm around his waist and throwing him out of the kitchen again. Aunt Petunia and Dudley followed after him, shielding their faces as they went. Chrys moved quickly, clearing the room just in time as Uncle Vernon snapped the door closed.

They could hear the letters continuing to hit against the door.

Uncle Vernon pulled at his mustache roaring out orders. They were told to pack some clothes, and get ready to leave immediately.

The other four hastily did as he said. No one argued.

"I didn't think it was possible, but he looks even more frightening with only half a mustache," Harry mumbled as he and Chrys shoved their clothes into a duffle bag.

Soon Uncle Vernon tore the boarded up door off its hinges and jumped into the car.

"No Dudley, you cannot bring those things!" Uncle Vernon growled, slapping him over the head. The startled Aunt Petunia herded them into the car. Dudley wept at the loss, of his t.v, VCR and sports equipment.

"I would keep quiet," Chrys whispered to him. "Your dad seems like he's gone completely bonkers." The fact that Dudley said nothing in response, spoke volumes.

Uncle Vernon drove for ages. Frequently Aunt Petunia's mouth gapped open fish-like, but she just as quickly shook her head and shut it again. Chrys thought she was trying to build up the courage to ask where they were going. They drove as if someone was chasing them, at top speed, sometimes making hairpin turns and continuing in the opposite direction. Uncle Vernon kept mumbling something about 'shaking them off.'

By the end of the day everyone was thirsty, hungry and bad tempered—no one more so than Dudley. The poor boy had never gone so long without watching his favorite television shows, or shooting things on his computer. He howled like a moody dog, until Vernon finally agreed to stop outside a grimy looking hotel, far away from any large city.

Dudley and the twins were made to share a room where the beds were wet and smelled of mildew. Aunt Petunia clearly disproved of the place, but she put her feelings aside to find food for Dudley, as she was worried her poor baby was going to starve.

After they had eaten a meager, extremely bad tasting meal, Harry curled up on the twins' bed and fell asleep immediately. Dudley fell asleep just as quickly, snoring louder than an elephant. Chrys stayed up well into the morning, sitting on the windowsill, staring out into the distance, trying to understand what was happening.

A new day dawned, but conditions were not much improved. Harry scooped canned tomatoes onto stale toast while Aunt Petunia poured out some equally old cornflakes. Dudley picked at his food for a moment, clearly not impressed. Chrys pointed out that this might be all they got to eat today. Dudley scarfed it up at record speed after that. The rest of them had almost finished eating, when suddenly the owner of the hotel walked over to them.

She confusedly explained to them that she had quite a few letters for them, under the names of H. and C. Potter. She held one up as proof. Harry jumped to reach it, but Uncle Vernon tore it up before he could get it. Vernon followed the increasingly bewildered hotel owner out of the room while Aunt Petunia shuffled uncomfortably. Aunt Petunia hated public incidents more than anything, and at the moment her husband was the cause of one.

Later, when they had driven for quite some time, Aunt Petunia finally plucked up some sparse nerve and managed to suggest they head home.

Uncle Vernon ignored her.

Dudley wondered what his father was looking for. Aunt Petunia shook her head. No one had any idea what was going on in that tiny head of his.

When the car finally stopped Dudley looked up excitedly, but they were still in the middle of nowhere. To be exact, they had stopped in the middle of a forest. Uncle Vernon got out of the car, studying the area. Aunt Petunia and Dudley stayed in the car, not liking the appearance of the dark woods. Chrys and Harry exchanged a look, wondering if they should get out and explore, when Uncle Vernon suddenly shook his head, popped back in the car and drove off again. Throughout the day he stopped several times in the middle of unassuming, out of the way locations, but none of them seemed to meet his unknown expectations.

When they stopped on a misty coast later that afternoon, Uncle Vernon locked the rest of them inside the car and wandered off somewhere. "Maybe you're right," Dudley said to Chrys. "Maybe he has gone mad." Chrys would have been astounded that he was agreeing with her, had her observation not been so obviously correct. Dudley squeezed his fat body into the front seat and started up and conversation with his mother. Well, it was more like he was complaining to her as she nodded warily.

As Dudley talked about all the great television he was missing this Monday, something in Harry's eyes suddenly sparked. "Dudley's usually good with the date, if only so he can keep up with his shows…" Harry said thoughtfully. Chrys nodded, wondering where he was going with this. "Well, you do realize that means that tomorrow is Tuesday?"

Chrys stared at him. "Is Uncle Vernon's stupidity rubbing off on you?" She asked worriedly. Harry stuck his tongue out at her.

"You don't have to be so offensive…I only meant that our eleventh birthday is tomorrow."

"Oh…" Now Chrys felt stupid. "Happy early birthday then."

Harry snorted. "Our birthday is not a happy time," He reminded her. "Last year you got a coat hanger and I got an old pair of Uncle Vernon's socks."

"Eeew," Chrys wrinkled her nose. "Okay, I see what you mean. Still, it is kind of exciting, being somewhere new. It's almost like an adventure."

"Maybe. And I mean, it our eleventh, you don't turn eleven every day."

"Yeah."

Shortly after their conversation, and scarily pleased looking Uncle Vernon returned. He announced that he'd found the perfect place. While they all piled out of the car, Chrys noticed that Uncle Vernon was carrying a long thin object wrapped in brown paper. Aunt Petunia saw it as well, and asked him what it was. Uncle Vernon pretended he didn't hear her. Chrys thought that maybe the twins weren't the only ones who weren't allowed to ask questions.

It was very chilly by the sea. Uncle Vernon gestured towards a rocky looking small island type thing far out to sea. When Chrys squinted she could just make out a crumbling little shack that most definitely did not have the amenities Dudley was begging for.

"It's miserable," Harry said under his breath as Uncle Vernon excitedly told them that there was a storm tonight.

"I'm miserable," Chrys echoed, as Uncle Vernon led them to a small boat owned by a little old man. The old man flashed a toothless smile that made Aunt Petunia grimace. No one was eager to get into the boat. Uncle Vernon assured them that he had enough rations (which was not a reassuring word) and they reluctantly gathered into the boat. Chrys sadly watched the old man walk away.

At least he might've been better at rowing the boat.

As it was Uncle Vernon guided the boat bumpily through the grey waters. Chrys clutched at Harry, her stomach whirling as the icy wind slapped at their faces. Eventually they reached the stone isle and Uncle Vernon pushed them into the shack. The storm grew worse and worse. There was no way off this island now.

"Smells like seaweed," Harry said. "And we could do with some of Uncle Vernon's mad hammering right about now." He gestured at the many cracks in the feeble wooden structure. The cold air had no problem seeping in and biting at their noses.

Chrys ignored him, quickly glancing around. There were only two rooms. The floors were made of dirt and there was a fireplace…that was soaked and barren.

"I've got a bag of crisps each and four bananas," Uncle Vernon spoke up, placing his so-called rations in the middle of the room. Dudley gobbled it up gloomily. In contrast, Uncle Vernon could have been the happiest person on earth. He whistled cheerfully as he tried (and failed) to light the empty crisp bags on fire.

"Obviously he thinks no one will find us all the way out here, especially what with the storm…and I agree," Harry muttered.

Chrys sighed. "After all this, no more letters."

The wind and waves shook the entire hut. Chrys attempted to rub some of the grime off the windows, trying to see outside. She had no luck. Aunt Petunia called her over, and the two of them searched the second room until they found a couple of worn, moldy blankets. Aunt Petunia set up a bed for Dudley on the run down sofa, and then followed Uncle Vernon into the second room, where the only small bed was located.

"The ground is softest over here," Harry told Chrys, patting the spot next to him. Chrys curled up at his side, stretching the blanket as far as it would go.

"Aunt Petunia gave us the thinnest, most moth-eaten blanket," she said as she shivered.

"Not like we'd be able to sleep in this weather anyway," Harry pointed out as lightning flashed.

"Too true, and at least the thunder will block out Dudley's snores."

"Yeah, what more could we possibly ask for?" Harry grunted as his stomach growled. As the night winded down, Harry rolled over to Dudley's arm, which dangled off the couch. He pressed a button, lighting up the expensive watch. "Ten minutes until our birthday," he whispered. "Will the Dursleys even remember? Where do you think the letter writer is now?" He yawned

"Hmm… I doubt it, I forgot all about it after all and…hopefully that person will be somewhere warm," Chrys answered quietly. Dudley's watched ticked onward.

"Five minutes to go," Harry said. He froze. "Did you hear that?" Chrys nodded and sat up a little. Something outside had creaked loudly. "I hope the roof doesn't cave in, though I guess the rubble would work better than this blanket."

"Ha ha."

"Four minutes…Maybe the house will be so flooded with letters when we get back that I'll be able to sneak one."

"It's a possibility…three minutes. Hey, do you hear that slapping sound? Could it be the waves?"

"It didn't sound like them…two minutes…what about that crunching noise…is the island breaking down now?"

"Well, at least we'll probably turn eleven before we die…one minute left."

"Let's wake Dudley up. At least I'll get the satisfaction of annoying him."

"I don't know…three…two…one…"

BAM!BAM!BAM! The shack shook. Harry sat up, moving to shield Chrys as he stared at the door. "Someone's outside, knocking on the door," he whispered.

"…What sort of person knocks that loudly?" Chrys wondered.

* * *

**Again, sorry if I'd written something important in this area and then accidentally deleted it. Hope you like the edits.**


	4. Of Tails and Tales

**(Yipes I forgot to add the thank yous up here. ****3Pickles: **

**So yeah, here's another chapter. **

**I do not own _Harry Potter _only Chrys.**

* * *

The Potter Twins and the Sorcerer's Stone: 

**Chapter Three: **Of Tails and Tales

Chrys clutched Harry's arm as the stranger knocked again. Dudley jolted half awake, mumbling something about a canon.

"We don't have the time for your stupidity," Chrys hushed him. The three of them jumped as something crashed behind them. Uncle Vernon raced into the room, and nearly tripped over himself—which would have been even more of a disaster than usual, considering he was holding a riffle. "So that's what that package was," Chrys realized.

Uncle Vernon shouted out threats. The knocking stopped for a moment and then…

There was a horrible crash!

The door had been ripped out of the wall.

A flash of lightning illuminated the figure towering in the doorway. The wind roared, billowing a massive coat up around massive legs. A gigantic hand moved up to a gigantic head and smoothed back the mass of wiry brown hair that covered it. Chrys saw a pair of black eyes twinkling down at her.

She gulped as the colossus moved forward. He crouched down and shimmed his way into the hut, turning around to gently fit the door back into its proper place.

It was eerily quiet. The storm outside was starting to die down a bit.

However, the madness _inside_ was only just beginning.

The man studied each of them in turn, managing a tired smile. His voice was thick, but polite as he requested a cuppa—apparently he'd just had a tough journey. He moved to the couch, probably ready to take a load off. Dudley was scared stiff, clutching the sofa arm for dear life. The man told him to budge over. Dudley squeaked and ran to hide behind Aunt Petunia, who in turn was hiding behind Uncle Vernon. All three of them looked terrified.

Chrys looked at her brother. Harry looked a little nervous and a little confused, but more curious than anything else. Chrys didn't know what to feel.

Then the man greeted the twins by name. "Harry an' Chrys! Las' time I could carry yeh each in an arm." He beamed reminiscently at them. Chrys blinked hard. Only Harry ever called her by her preferred nickname. The Dursleys referred to her as 'that girl' or one half of 'them.' School stuck to her surname. So Chrys found herself implicitly warming to this man, believing whole-heartedly that he was someone from her past. Her belief was furthered when he said Harry looked a lot like their dad, though he had their mother's eyes. "An' Chrys, yeh've got yer dad's eyes, but the rest of yeh's a bit of a mix."

The wild man gave them a kindly smile that Chrys returned immediately. With just a few sentences she was learning more about her parents than she'd ever known before. She inched forward, eager to hear more, but was interrupted by Uncle Vernon, hissing and telling the giant man to leave. The giant man unconcernedly told Vernon to shut up. Chrys was liking this man more and more.

Uncle Vernon started waving his gun around.

"Oi, watch it!" She cried out anxiously. The giant man gave Chrys a curious little glance and reached over the couch towards Uncle Vernon. He easily grabbed the riffle away, knotted it up like a pretzel, and threw it into the farthest corner. Uncle Vernon yelped and drew back.

Chrys sighed in relief.

"Anyway—where was I?" the man continued, ignoring the Dursleys completely. "Righ' well, a very happy birthday to the both of yeh." Chrys beamed as pulled a large box out of his disproportionately small pocket and handed it over. He apologized for the squashed-ness, but assured them that it would probably taste all right. Harry took it with shaking hands and Chrys reached over, carefully flipping it open.

Inside was a huge cake, chocolate (their favorite flavor) with 'happy birthday Harry and Chrys' written on it in green icing. Harry gazed upwards clearly grateful.

"Thank you," Chrys said, remembering her manners.

"T'was nothin." The man rubbed his neck in pleased embarrassment.

Harry gapped at the cake for a moment, and then asked the man who he was. Chrys glared at Harry's impoliteness, and Harry looked sheepish, but the huge man merely chuckled.

He introduced himself as, 'Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts." Then he reached over and gave them each an earthshaking handshake. Then Hagrid reminded them he'd like some tea, or something stronger if they could get it.

"Sorry," Chrys shook her head. "We finished our 'rations' earlier." She gestured at the pathetic burnt remains of their crisp bags in the fireplace. Hagrid snorted. He bent over, blocking the grate. There were some mysterious tinkering noises, and then he straightened up, revealing full blazing fire.

Chrys gasped. Harry closed his eyes for a second, enjoying the soothing heat. "It's like a nice hot bath," he murmured.

The dark hut was suddenly bright, and Chrys felt a sense of relief wash over her. "Yeah."

The man called Hagrid settled back onto the sofa (Chrys was surprised it didn't give way). She watched as he took more impossible things out of his magical pockets, cutlery, some raw sausages wrapped in paper, a poker, kettle, mugs and a flask. He took a quick draught of the flask before tucking back in his coat and getting started on a lovely looking meal. The smell of the sausages cooking made Chrys' mouth water. She couldn't blame Dudley as he shuffled his feet, obviously wanting some. Uncle Vernon barked out a warning, telling Dudley not to go near it.

Hagrid laughed in a disbelieving sort of way, pointing out that the younger Dursley didn't need any more fattening up.

Harry smiled, and automatically moved to help with the tea. Before he could do anything, Hagrid handed each of the twins a couple sausages. Chrys juggled them until they cooled down a bit. Harry munched noisily.

"Wonderful," He mumbled to Chrys.

"Hunger is the best sauce," She said, nodding. After they finished Harry looked up at Hagrid, and as politely as he could, asked him again who he was. Hagrid repeated his title, adding that most people just called him Hagrid. He seemed to think that Harry and Chrys should know all about 'Hogwarts,' whatever that was.

Harry told him shortly that they had no idea what he was talking about. Hagrid's eyes widened in shock. Harry quickly apologized, but Hagrid roared in protest, saying that it was the Dursleys who should be apologizing. He said he knew the twins weren't getting their letters, but this seemed like much too large of a gap in their knowledge—besides, hadn't they ever wondered where their parents learned it all?

Chrys and Harry looked at each other. "All what?" They chorused aloud.

Hagrid jumped up. His growing anger was palpable. The entire hut shook. The Dursleys were trying to make themselves as small as possible.

Harry and Chrys, on the other hand, were somewhat offended. "We do go to school," he spoke up. "We get okay marks at like, maths and things."

"We're smart kids," Chrys continued defensively.

Hagrid waved his hand in dismissive sort of way. "Sure yeh are, but…" He clarified that he was talking about _their _world, _his _world, _their _parents' world. If anything, this made Chrys more confused.

"What world?" She and Harry asked together.

Hagrid's voice rumbled as he shouted at Uncle Vernon. The color drained from Uncle Vernon's face as he muttered incoherently. Hagrid turned quickly back to the twins. He said, surely they knew about their parents? How could they not when their parents were so famous?

"Famous?" Chrys repeated. Harry stuttered in confusion. Hagrid looked equally as perplexed. He was whispering things under his breath, pressing down his wild mane of hair. Finally he asked the twins a very important question.

Did they know who they were?

Chrys had a feeling this wasn't a spiritual or biological question. She shook her head.

Amazingly, Uncle Vernon, who was trembling with fear, suddenly cut in. He prohibited Hagrid from saying anything further.

Hagrid responded by flooding him with questions. Why didn't he tell the twins about the letter that Dumbledore left them that night? Hagrid said he was there, he knew the letter had been delivered. How could Uncle Vernon have kept in from them all this time?

Harry interrupted, wanting what had been kept from them.

Uncle Vernon started to scramble, shouting at Hagrid to stop. Aunt Petunia covered her mouth in fear.

Hagrid glared fiercely. Hagrid colorfully told the Dursleys to go away. Then he leaned down closer to the twins and said, "Harry, Chrys—yer a wizard an' a witch."

Chrys could have heard a pin drop. Even the noises of the wind and sea soften. She held her breath. Harry finally broke the silence.

"We're what?"

Hagrid fell back onto the sofa, which protested loudly. "A wizard an' a witch o' course," He repeated. "Yeh'll be thumpin' good ones I'd say, once yeh've been trained up a bit." After all, he continued, with a mum and dad like that, how could they not be great? Anyway, Hagrid said, it was high time they read their letters.

"Yes please," Chrys agreed readily. She and Harry reached out. Hagrid handed them each a familiar looking envelope. The letters were like all the others, with the thick yellow paper, and the eerily accurate address in green ink. Chrys bit her lip. The twins looked at each other, and then, in unison, they opened their letters.

Apparently 'Hogwarts' was a school that taught magic, Chrys thought, as she read the heading. Coincidently (or not), this Dumbledore person was the headmaster. He had a great many titles, none of which made any sense to Chrys. The letter proceeded just as strangely, telling her that she had been accepted into _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_. There was a list of supplies that she was supposed to buy, and term would start on September first. There was also something about an owl that needed to come no later than the thirty-first of this month. Finally, the letter was signed off by one Minerva McGonagall, who was evidently the Deputy Headmistress.

"My head hurts," Harry said quietly, but his eyes were bright with excitement. Chrys leaned over, glancing at his letter that looked the same as hers, except there was his name in the salutation.

Harry asked Hagrid what the letter meant about the owl. Chrys nodded, that had been the most confusing point for her as well. Harry's question reminded Hagrid of something. He slapped himself on the head, and rummaged through his pockets, pulling out a ruffled looking owl. Chrys gapped. Hagrid took out a quill and roll of parchment as well, and began to write out a quick note.

Chrys knew it was rude, but she was so curious she couldn't help but read the writing upside down. Hagrid wrote a friendly short memo to the aforementioned headmaster, telling him that the twins had received their letters, Hagrid would take them to buy their things tomorrow, and the weather was horrible.

Then he folded the paper back up and placed it in the owl's mouth, and threw the poor creature out into the rain. He seemed quite unaffected by his own bizarreness. Harry open a shut his mouth, not knowing what to say. Hagrid scratched his head in a forgetful sort of way.

Uncle Vernon took the pause as an opportunity to tell Hagrid that the twins would not be allowed to go. His face was now past pale, and had turned the ugly color of old oatmeal. Chrys was disappointed. It was all very weird, but it sounded fun. Hagrid snorted again, doubting that a 'muggle' like Vernon could stop him. Chrys agreed that Uncle Vernon would be unlikely to win against Hagrid's muscle, though she had no idea what the word 'muggle' meant. Harry, who was wondering the same thing, asked. Hagrid nonchalantly informed them that muggles were non-magical people. He added that it was unfortunate they had been raised by muggles like the Dursleys. Again, Chrys agreed.

However, Uncle Vernon did not. He said he swore they would stamp it out of the witch and wizard straight out of them. Chrys frowned. So that was why they were treated so horribly? Harry's eyes narrowed.

He angrily asked the Dursleys if they had none all along about what him and Chrys were.

Aunt Petunia started shrieking that of course she knew. There was no way she wouldn't know, what with her awful sister being what she was. Her sister had gotten the same letter, went off to that _school_ and came home transforming teacups into rats, frog eggs dribbling out of her pockets. Oh, Aunt Petunia's parents had been proud of their daughter being a witch, but Petunia saw her sister for what she really was—a freak!

Chrys crossed her arms, hugging herself closely. She tried to imagine a woman with Harry's eyes smiling down at her, happy that Chrys was a witch too. She felt an odd sense of connection to the mother that she'd never met. Aunt Petunia chest heaved like she was finally free of a burdening weight. She continued in the sniping voice that she always used when Chrys had done something unforgivable.

Aunt Petunia said that her sister met 'that Potter boy' at school, shortly after which they were married and the twins were born. Petunia knew that the twins would be the same as their abnormal parents. She knew, so she was disgusted when her sister got herself blown up and then the twins were passed along.

Harry was pale. He swallowed and his voice rose dangerously. Petunia had told them their parents died in a car crash—what did she mean _blown up_?

Hagrid's voice drowned Harry's out. He stomped forward aggressively. The three Dursleys scurried backwards like rats with a cat at their tails. Hagrid thought it was outrageous to say that Lily and James Potter died in a car crash! The twins needed to know the story of their parents! They should know, especially when every other magical child knew their names.

"Why?" Harry asked.

"What story? What happened to our parents?" Chrys whispered hoarsely. Hagrid stopped. The anger drained out of him. Now he just looked worried.

He said he never knew they were this much in the dark. Dumbledore told him they might be difficult to reach, but Hagrid didn't expect it to be like this. He wasn't sure if he was the right person to tell them, but oh, they deserved to know. The twins couldn't go to Hogwarts without knowing. He shot one last look at the Dursleys before starting the story as best as he could. Some parts were unknown, but he would try.

He sat back down staring into the fire.

Chrys snuggled up next to the fire, crossing her legs and staring up at him like he was a teacher and it was story time.

Hagrid began…

A while ago there was a well-known person in the magical community. In fact, this man was so infamous that Hagrid was amazed the twins didn't know his name.

Harry interrupted to ask what the name was. Hagrid gulped. He didn't like to say the name aloud. Actually, most people avoided saying the name. Harry's eyebrows crinkled. Why? Hagrid opened his mouth in surprise.

Hagrid explained, that to this day people were terrified of that man… that particular wizard went bad. He was the worse of the worst. Hagrid tried to say the name, but the word seemed stuck in his throat. Harry politely suggested for Hagrid write it down. Chrys held out a scrap of paper, but Hagrid shook his head, he couldn't spell it. Chrys momentarily sympathized, knowing full well about difficult names.

So Hagrid said it—Voldemort. Even the sound of the name made him shiver horribly. He refused to say it again. He went on with the story.

Around twenty years previously, this evil man started to gather up more and more power. He gained many followers, some of whom were scared into submission, and others whose greed overwhelmed their common sense. It was a very dark time in history. No one knew who to trust. It was hard to meet new people…because terrible things could happen. The dark wizard was taking over. Some people tried to stand up to him, but they were killed…violently. Of course, Hogwarts was one of the safer places, as Dumbledore was one of the only ones 'You-Know-Who' was frightened of. Because of this school was not attacked, not yet.

Then there were Lily and James Potter. They were brilliant, head girl and head boy at Hogwarts. It would have made sense if You-Know-Who wanted them as an asset, but for some reason he never tried. Maybe he knew they were loyal to Dumbledore and would never go over to the dark side. Though maybe he changed his mind, and that's why he showed up at the Potter's house that day. Perhaps he thought he could turn them into allies, or maybe he just wanted them dead. It was Halloween when he came into the house, and the twins were only a year old.

At this point Hagrid took out a handkerchief and blew his nose loudly. He apologized, saying that the Potters were his friends. They were the nicest people.

Chrys was started to feel a little weepy as well. She wiped her eyes on her shirtsleeve and tried to focus on the end of the story.

Afterwards, for some mysterious reason, he then turned to kill the twins. Hagrid wondered if You-Know-Who just felt like it was an incomplete job, or maybe he just liked killing at that point. Anyway, the strangest thing was, You-Know-Who couldn't kill them. Hagrid motioned at the twins, asking if they'd ever wondered where they'd gotten the marks on their foreheads. Chrys leaned forward.

Hagrid told them that those scars were special. The lightning bolts were the marks of an evil curse. That curse killed their parents, but when it was turned on the twins, it didn't work properly. The twins were the first to survive. Countless families, powerful people (Hagrid listed off names) were murdered, but the twins, who were only babies at the time…lived. That was why the twins were so famous.

Chrys groped for Harry's hand and gripped it tightly. She knew he was seeing the same thing as her. The familiar painful flash of green light echoed in their minds…but this time there was something new. Chrys heard, from the depths of her memories, the sound of cold, evil laughter. Chrys looked up at Harry. His cringing face reflected how she felt.

Hagrid gave them a sympathetic glance. He told them he personally carried them out of the wreckage of their house, and when Dumbledore asked him to, delivered them to the Dursleys.

Uncle Vernon apparently couldn't hold back any longer. He roughly told them that he knew they were strange, but he was sure a good beating could snap it out of them. He knew their parents were strange, and he was glad they were gone. Of course anyone like that would be killed…

Chrys stood up, not sure what she was going to do, but quickly jumped out of the way when she saw what was happening to her left. Hagrid leapt at Uncle Vernon, brandishing a pink umbrella he'd slid out of his coat. He threatened Vernon with the umbrella like it was a dangerous weapon and warned him not to say anything further.

Despite the strangeness of the situation, Vernon was properly intimidated, so he slunk back up against the wall, shutting his mouth firmly.

Hagrid grunted, clearly liking this silent Vernon a whole lot better. The legs of the sofa buckled, and it slammed into the floor as Hagrid sat again.

Harry seemed the least disturbed about everything that was happening. He asked curiously about that You-Know-Who guy, only just remembering not to use his name. Hagrid nodded, telling them that he disappeared that very night, it was the most inexplicable part of the story. Considering how powerful the man had become—why would he throw everything away and vanish from society? Though, some people have said that You-Know-Who died, Hagrid thought the notion was ridiculous. He reckoned that anyone that inhuman couldn't possibly die. There was another theory that You-Know-Who went into hiding, waiting for the perfect moment to attack again. Hagrid wasn't so sure about that idea either, because some of You-Know-Who's followers left their evilness behind as if coming out of trance. Hagrid didn't think it was likely the followers could have done that if You-Know-Who was going to come back. A third option was that You-Know-Who lost his strength, and was too powerless to continue. Hagrid agreed, and thought that Harry and Chrys had been the ones sap the power. Something happened that night that surprised You-Know-Who. Something about the twins, some unknown element, caused them to overcome him and drive him away.

Chrys was shocked at the level of respect in Hagrid's eyes. She had all ready seen he was a very kind person, but she could not understand why he seemed so proud of them. She saw Harry shake his head, just as disbelievingly. Chrys thought about the times Harry had been in pain and she had failed to protect him. If she were really some kind of magical heroine, wouldn't she have been able to save him? If they had been able to defeat a powerful dark wizard then surely they would have been able to take down primary school bullies and unkind aunts and uncles.

Harry voiced their feelings aloud. Hagrid must have made some sort of mistake, they couldn't be magical.

Hagrid seemed to think this was funny. He asked them if they'd ever made anything unexplainable happen when they were upset.

Chrys' eyes widened, and she stared at Harry. Her brother was gazing into the fire, deep in thought. She knew Hagrid was right, over the years there had been many mysterious moments. All those impossible solutions that they had been so heavily punished for…Come to think of it, just recently, hadn't they spoken to a snake?

"Wow," Chrys exclaimed quietly. Harry and Hagrid beamed at each other. Hagrid told them that they were definitely a witch and a wizard, and they were going to be famous at school.

Uncle Vernon was incredibly stubborn. He called out, reminding Hagrid that he wasn't going to allow the twins to attend that school. The twins' only option was Stonewall. Uncle Vernon had read those letters and he would not spend money on that ludicrous supplies list.

Hagrid rolled his large eyes in frustration. He reminded Vernon that a muggle could do nothing to stop them. Lily and James Potter's children were going to Hogwarts and he could not stop them. Their names had been down since birth. This was the finest school for witchcraft and wizardry. The seven years there would be a great change for them. They would be surrounded by magical people their own age and they'll be looked after by the greatest headmaster of all time…

Uncle Vernon snapped, rudely insulting Professor Dumbledore.

This was the last straw for Hagrid. He grabbed his umbrella, twirled it over his head as he yelled, stabbing it into the air for emphasis. At the last moment he swung the umbrella around and pointed it at Dudley. There was a blinding flash of purple light, a static crackle and then Dudley cried out.

When Chrys' vision cleared she saw Dudley running in circles, gripping his backside in his hands, yowling. As he turned around, Chrys spotted a distinctly pig-like tail sticking out between his buttocks.

Uncle Vernon screamed, grabbing his family and running for dear life, attempting to hide in the other room. The slam of the door seemed to bring Hagrid back to his senses.

He sighed regretfully, lowering his umbrella and rubbing his chin. He admitted he lost his temper, though he hadn't even meant to do that to Dudley. He had been trying to turn the boy into a pig…but maybe Dudley was too much like a pig for the spell to work. Harry chuckled. Chrys clapped in appreciation. Hagrid looked sideways at them, peeking out from behind his wild mane. He asked the twins to please not tell anyone what he did…as he wasn't really supposed to do magic, though he was given clearance for this job, which was certainly an added bonus…

Harry stopped laughing and wondered aloud why Hagrid wasn't allowed to do magic.

Hagrid embarrassedly mentioned something about an incident in his third year of Hogwarts for which he was expelled, and his wand was snapped. Luckily Dumbledore, who was a great man, gave Hagrid a job as groundskeeper, so Hagrid could stay at the school.

Chrys thought this school must be amazing if Hagrid was so eager to stay there for so much of his life. Harry wanted to know why Hagrid was expelled. Hagrid quite obviously changed the subject, suggested they should get some rest, as there was much to be done tomorrow.

He shrugged off his enormous coat, offering it to the twins as a blanket. Though he warned them it might wiggle around a bit as he thought there was some mice in one of the pockets.

Chrys giggled as she saw a mouse-tail disappear into the depths of the coat while he spoke. She spread the jacket over her brother and herself, grateful for the warmth the thick material provided.

"It was a much happier birthday than expected," She whispered in Harry's ear. Harry smiled.

"Yep. It was the best."

* * *

**Okay, so that's it for this chapter. I've got a bunch more written, but I feel like I could definitely use some feedback. I'm having all sorts of problems...the thing is, I don't want to just grab huge chunks of dialogue out of the book and quote J.K. directly, but then I end up summarizing everything that happens...and it feels like it gets cluttered and boring. If anybody has any suggestions of a different approach I could take (or a way I could liven things up!) please review or PM me.**

**thanks so much,  
**

**AoiKuroNekoSan  
**

**P.S: Next chapter is Diagon Alley...ugh, wish I could go.  
**


	5. Of Shops and Curiosity

**Okay, so I've finally gotten another chapter up. I've actually started to write the next couple chapters, but my editing process is a bit crazy (read: deadly) and so that can take forever. I was planing on focusing on some of my other fics, but this one kept nagging me, so I buckled down and here is the result.**

**By the way, my name is not J.K Rowling. Therefore I do not own _Harry Potter_.**

* * *

The Potter Twins and the Sorcerer's Stone: 

**Chapter Four: **Of Shops and Curiosity

When Chrys woke she felt abnormally well rested. She squinted up at Hagrid who was sprawled out across the broken couch. She was grateful he'd lent them his coat, but now that the sun was up, it felt a bit steamy. So she wriggled out from underneath. Harry rolled over, unconsciously wrapping himself up like a caterpillar in a cocoon. Chrys grinned and poked his cheek. He squirmed, waking slowly but refusing to open his eyes. "Wakey, wakey," Chrys urged, poking him again. Harry murmured.

"Mmm…Chrys shhh, I'm having a great dream… giants and wizards…"

"It was real," Chrys assured him.

"Liar," Harry muttered. An odd rat-a-tat-tat noise rang out through the room. Chrys swung around, catching sight of an owl clawing at the window. "See, there's Aunt Petunia at the door…"

"Actually it's an owl," Chrys said truthfully. Harry sat up immediately. He blinked at the bright sunlight, rubbing his eyes and staring at the strange bird.

He was frozen still and then…

"Is that a newspaper in his mouth?" He asked quietly. Chrys nodded. "Then it really wasn't a dream." Harry popped up onto his feet, smiling ear to ear.

"I told you so. Now what about the owl?" Harry raced over to the window and flung it open.

"Come in!" Harry welcomed it brightly. The owl flew in gracefully, dropping the paper on Hagrid chest. Then it dive bombed Hagrid's coat.

"Is it after the dormice?" Chrys wondered. She moved to help Harry defend the coat. They tried to shoo the owl away, but it was not to be deterred. Harry called out for Hagrid who woke sleepily and told them to pay the owl.

"Huh?" "What?"

Hagrid explained the owl got paid for delivering the paper, and there was money in his pocket.

"There's nothing but pockets," Chrys complained as she and Harry riffled through them. Harry came up with keys, sweets, and slug pellets. Chrys found teabags, balls of string and finally a weird bunch of coins. Hagrid told them to give the owl five knuts, whatever those were. It turned out they were the small bronze ones.

Harry carefully placed the five coins into a little leather pouch on the owl's leg. This seemed to satisfy the bird, who took off right away. Chrys waved as it left.

Hagrid started getting up. He shook his scraggily mane, yawned lion-like, and stretched his lengthy limbs. He announced that it was time to be off for London, as there was much to be done today. It was time to go shopping for the twins' school supplies.

"Ooh London!" Chrys exclaimed excitedly. Harry was silent. He studied the wizarding coins with a deflated sort of look on his face. Then he reminded Hagrid that Uncle Vernon refused to pay for magical schooling. "Oh, I hadn't thought about that." Chrys felt her heart sink. She wondered if there was some sort of scholarship they could go for…

Hagrid told them not to worry. Their parents left them plenty. Harry was confused. He'd thought their house was destroyed. Hagrid laughed. He explained that wizards didn't keep their money in their houses; they went to Gringotts, the wizarding bank.

He handed them some leftover sausages, promising them that they weren't bad cold. He was right. Chrys cut into the mostly uneaten birthday cake (they had been too shocked to dig into it last night). Harry distractedly licked frosting off of his fingers, still musing over the fact that wizards had banks. Hagrid corrected him. Wizards only had one bank, and it was run by goblins. Harry fumbled his fork. Chrys jaw fell. Partially chewed cake dropped out of her mouth.

"Goblins?" The twins asked incredulously.

Hagrid waved their surprise away, going on to say that goblins were not to be messed with, which of course made the bank a very safe place. No one would rob Gringotts. Only Hogwarts was safer. And speaking about Hogwarts, Hagrid had some school business at Gringotts. Dumbledore's orders. Hagrid's chest puffed out proudly as he talked about how important his work was. Dumbledore trusted him.

"Well, that's good," Chrys said politely, still a little shaken up about the goblins. Hagrid shuffled them along outside. The three of them stood there for a moment, just staring at the sea. "It's actually quite pretty when it's not attacking us."

"There's only the old man's boat," Harry noticed. He asked how Hagrid had gotten here. Hagrid calmly replied that he'd flown. Harry stared admiringly at Hagrid.

"Really?" Chrys frowned. She had a thing about heights.

Luckily, they were going to use the boat this time. They pilled in. Chrys glanced from their boat to the far off shore. Rowing did not look like an appealing task. Hagrid agreed. He gazed at twins, and wondered pointedly if they would keep it secret if he sped things up a bit. Harry and Chrys nodded eagerly, both ready to see more magic.

Hagrid got out his umbrella and tapped the boat—suddenly they zoomed off fast as a cheetah. Chrys hugged her knees to her chest, feeling ill again. She closed her eyes and tried to listen to Harry and Hagrid's conversation. It was exciting and a little scary to discover that things she thought she'd only ever encounter in books were actually real.

Harry asked question after question about the spells, enchantments, dragons, and underground passages. Then it grew silent. Chrys squinted open her eyes and saw Hagrid riffling through his paper, while Harry watched him hesitantly. Chrys knew Harry had gotten cuffed over the head a few times for interrupting Uncle Vernon's morning paper reading. Though Chrys knew Harry's curiosity was incurable. When Hagrid made a passing remark about the Minister of Magic, Harry jumped at the chance to learn more about the magical world. Hagrid responded in the same matter a fact way, as he had to the other questions. He said, the Ministry had offered Professor Dumbledore the position of Minster, but he wouldn't want to leave Hogwarts, so some man named Cornelius Fudge got the job. Apparently he was constantly bungling things up and asking for Dumbledore's help. Harry wanted to know what the Ministry did. Hagrid explained they mostly kept muggles in the dark about magic. Harry wanted to know why. Hagrid blinked in surprise at this. He seemed to think it was common sense. If magic were uncovered then muggles would constantly ask for magical solution to their problems. It was better that the wizarding people were left alone.

The conversation was interesting, but Chrys was relieved when the boat bumped up against the shore and they moved onto the streets. "Thank you solid ground!" Chrys cried out happily. Harry rolled his eyes. A few passersby gave her odd looks. They gave Hagrid even odder looks. "Not that I blame them," Harry told Chrys quietly. "Hagrid's huge…" Chrys nodded. She was nearly out of breath as she jogged to keep up with the gamekeeper's strides.

"Plus he keeps acting like normal things are spectacular," Chrys added as Hagrid declaring parking meeting one of the many muggle wonders. "Though I guess his idea of normal is quite different than ours…" She got thoughtful as they caught up to Hagrid. "Hagrid, are there really _dragons_? I'd love to see what they look like…" Hagrid beamed at her, agreeing whole-heartedly. He said the Gringotts dragons were more of a rumor, but he'd always wanted a dragon, ever since he was a kid. Harry's eyes bugged out slightly.

Chrys knew a dragon might be alarming pet, but wow if she could just catch a glimpse…she tried to imagine the gleam of scales and rush of flames.

"The railway station's just up here," Harry told them, spotting a sign.

Chrys ran a finger across the schedule. "And we're in luck, a train arrives in five minutes."

"Good, good…ah, but can one of yeh get the tickets? I don' understand this muggle money."

"Sure, I've got it." Hagrid handed some bills off to Harry who went and paid.

By the time they got on the train, it felt like every single person was staring at them. Well, understandably so as Hagrid had decided it was an opportune time to do some knitting. Chrys wrinkled her nose at the bright yellow color. "Still got yer letters?" Hagrid asked as he counted the stitches. Chrys patted her pocket. Harry took his out and examined the supplies list.

"I haven't looked at this yet," Harry said curiously, reading through it. Chrys leaned over his shoulder. Most of the items were quite unusual. The uniform seemed to be made up of black robes, pointed hats, with dragon hide gloves for protection, and warmer cloaks for the winter. Then there were books, with the word 'magic' frequently popping up in the titles, as well as more specific words such as 'potions' and 'transfiguration.' Next there was a sort of miscellaneous section, which was mainly a wand, a pewter cauldron, glass/crystal phials, a telescope, brass scales. You could also bring along a pet (either an owl, cat or toad). There was also a warning that broomsticks were forbidden for first years.

An image of a cackling cloaked woman soaring past the moon on a broomstick came to mind. Chrys thought of the distance from the ground and sky, and hoped she would not have to fly. Though she could probably pull off a nice cackle.

"Better than the grey Stonewall outfit," she said aloud.

Harry just wanted to know if they could find it all in London. Hagrid cryptically answered, yes, if they knew where to look.

"It's our first time in London," Harry said conversationally as they walked along the pavement.

"Hmmm…" Hagrid grunted. He was concentrating hard on moving in a certain direction. Chrys hoped they hadn't gotten lost. She thought he'd gotten a bit turned around in the underground, which was obviously new to him. He complained that the trains moved too slowly, the seats weren't big enough (which was fair to say, as he took up two) … and it didn't help that he'd gotten stuck in the ticket barrier. He led them down a broken escalator, grumbling that he didn't understand how the muggles got along without magic.

"He was in awe earlier. I guess the muggle way lost its magic for him," Chrys commented with a wink. Harry groaned.

"Please don't start." Harry was not appreciative of her puns. They kept going.

"Hagrid parts a crowd nicely," Chrys observed. They stuck close by their guide, managing to get through the busy streets of London much faster than she would have thought possible. Chrys saw Harry eyeing the shops, probably wondering which one sold magical objects. Really, they all looked pretty normal.

"Maybe this is all some huge joke the Dursley's cooked up," Harry said sadly.

"You know Harry, you're quite the little black rain cloud—stop raining on my parade. Besides, the Dursleys have no sense of humor."

"True," Harry agreed, cheering slightly. "And it does sound unbelievable but," He stared up at Hagrid's broad back. "I don't know, something about him just seems trustworthy."

"Definitely." Chrys smiled and then walked straight into Hagrid as he came to a sudden stop. Hagrid announced that they had arrived at the Leaky Cauldron, which was evidently a well-known location. "It's just a pub," Chrys said disappointedly. "I wouldn't have even noticed it if you hadn't pointed it out." Harry nodded. No one in the bustling crowd even spared the place a glance. Hagrid's eyes glinted secretively.

"You know," Harry whispered. "I have the strangest feeling… Hagrid can—" Before Harry could finish Hagrid gently shoved the twins inside.

Chrys wondered why this dingy pub was so popular. The ceilings were high, but everything was made of a dark, dusty wood. Aunt Petunia would turn her nose up and complain loudly about the cleaning (or lack of). Still, there was a welcoming glow to the fire-lit lamps. The inhabitants looked perfectly fine with their surroundings.

As expected most people were drinking—though the glasses were curiously old fashioned, and the alcoholic smells were nothing like the Durselys' favorites. One woman was smoking a long, _Lord of the Rings_ esque pipe. A familiar looking man wearing a top hat was chatting to the bald, toothless bartender. Chrys heard Harry mumble something about walnuts, but before she could ask him to repeat himself, people began to notice Hagrid. Everyone waved pleasantly at him, like they were old pals.

The bartender offered Hagrid 'the usual,' but Hagrid shook his head, clapping the twins' shoulders and saying he was on Hogwarts business. Hagrid's friendly pat threw Chrys off balance. Harry steadied her before she fell, and turned nervously to the barman.

The bartender made a startled exclamation, and stared awestruck at the twins. For a moment, the entire room held its breath. No one moved, or said a word. Not a single glass clinked. Then he continued. "The Potter twins…what an honor." He rushed out from behind the bar and shook their hands. Chrys thought she saw tears in his eyes. "Ms. Potter, Mr. Potter, welcome back," he said earnestly.

Harry was speechless. Chrys shuffled uncomfortably as everyone looked at them. The woman's pipe dripped ash onto the table, but she either did not notice, or didn't care. Hagrid grinned, as there was a sudden rush of people hopping out of their chairs and lining up to shake the twins' hands.

Doris Crockford was the first of many to introduce herself, and gush about how excited she was to meet them. People looked giddy at shaking their hands, like they were some kind of rock stars or something. Except, some of these hand-shakers were serious, and strangely thankful. Chrys jumped. She suddenly recognized the top-hat man. He said his name was Dedalus Diggle. Harry cried out, also recalling the man who had bowed to them in a shop when they were younger. Mr. Diggle was ecstatic at being remembered. He dropped his hat, and became even more excited when Chrys picked it up for him.

Quite soon Chrys was tired with shaking hands, especially Ms. Crockford who kept going back to the end of the line. "Ms. Crockford, I'm sorry but I don't want…" She trailed off, noting that a new, anxious faced man was making his way over. Hagrid called out to him. The pale man was named Quirrell, and he was one of the professors at Hogwarts. Professor Quirrell had a stutter and an eye twitch, but he was just as delighted to meet the twins as all the rest of pub.

Harry politely asked Quirrell what subject he taught. Quirrell fearfully told them it was Defense Against the Dark Arts. He joked that it wasn't as if the twins even needed defense lessons. His shaky laugh and shudder at the mention of the vampire book he needed to purchase made Chrys wonder if he would be any good at teaching that particular subject. Her heart thumped excitedly at the thought of real live (so to speak) vampires.

After this Hagrid ushered them out the back entrance, past a hopeful looking Doris Crockford. Chrys gave a sigh of relief at the fresh air, though she wondered why they were standing in the courtyard, which was empty save for some weeds and rubbish bins. "Well, anything's better than being stuck back in there," she muttered to herself. Hagrid just smiled, reminding them he'd told them they were famous. He mentioned how excited Quirrell looked to meet them, though he admitted Quirrell normally looked somewhat keyed up. Apparently the professor was clever with books, but as soon as he went out in the real world he ran into some vampires and a hag, and he's been terrified of everything since.

Chrys scratched her head. What was the difference between a hag and a witch? Come to think of it, was she going to sprout warts at some point? She couldn't stand Dudley's laughter if that were to happen.

Meanwhile Harry looked dazed. Chrys understood the feeling. She patted him on the back as she watched Hagrid count the bricks in the wall. Then he motioned for Harry and Chrys to step back. Chrys tugged Harry away from the wall as Hagrid poked it with his umbrella.

The center of the wall shook just as hard as Professor Quirrell, wiggling and jiggling until a hole opened up and spread outwards. The opening grew larger and larger until it formed into an archway high above them.

Hagrid walked through with no issue, turning around to gesture an arm at the cobbled road that twisted before them.

Chrys bounced up and down in glee as he welcomed them to _Diagon Alley_. "Wicked," she marveled as they walked through.

The archway melted back into a wall as soon as they had passed, but Chrys didn't pay it much attention.

The sights before her were too new and enticing to ignore. Hagrid pointed out a stack of cauldrons that glittered in the sunlight, saying they'd come back just as soon as the twins got their money. Chrys' neck was starting to hurt from continuously jerking around to look at something new. The sturdy brick buildings were quaint in the absolute best sense of the word. Wind chimes clinked in the wind, announcing the coming and going of all sorts of people in and out of the shops. A chubby woman complained about the price of dragon liver as they passed the _Apothecary_. Musical hooting floated over to them from _Eeylops Owl Emporium_, where various owls were listed for purchase.

Harry elbowed Chrys to get her attention. He pointed at a group of boys around their age crowded around a shop full of broomsticks. Chrys heard snatches of their conversation. They were looking at the Nimbus Two Thousand, a new broom that was the fastest ever. Chrys tried not to think about zooming across the sky at top speed. There was plenty else to look at.

There were fluttering ankle length robes, barrels of animal innards labeled things like bat spleens and eels' eyes, multi-colored bottles of potions, spherical full scale models of solar systems that rotated around each other in mid-air… Chrys was particularly drawn to one shop, where books were pilled so high that they threatened to collapse on top of her. She ran her hand over the soft feather quills, trying to imagine how it would be to sketch with them. Harry had to drag her away from examining some rolls of parchment so that they could keep up with Hagrid.

Gringotts was the largest and grandest building. Its doors were brightly polished bronze, and its guard was…a goblin? Hagrid affirmed her suspicion. They walked up the white stone steps, moving past the uniformed goblin. Chrys couldn't help but study him closely as they moved past. Overall the goblin was short, pale and pointy. His nose, fingers, toes, beard and even hat had sharp-looking edges. He bowed politely to them as they moved inside, but Chrys gulped at his watchful wry expression.

That sort of face made her feel guilty even when she hadn't done anything wrong (yet).

The next set of doors was silver and engraved with some lines of poetry. It was a cleverly sinister poem, warning people not to be greedy, not to steal, least they get more than they bargained for. Hagrid reiterated his earlier point that you'd have to be off your rocker to rob the place.

Two more goblin guards let them through the shining doors into a massive marble hall.

"Fancy, and intimidating, " Chyrs mumbled. A well-varnished wood counter stretched far into the distance, lined with goblins in spectacles sitting on high stools. They scribbled in time with each other, taking note of the weight of their coins, and the cut of their gems. Behind the counter additional goblins led wizards and witches through several other doors.

There was so much movement, yet it was cold and quiet in the wizarding bank. Chrys swore that the other nearby goblins were sneakily peering down at them. Hagrid led the twins over to an available goblin and cleared his throat. The sound echoed feebly throughout the hall. Hagrid respectfully informed the goblin that they were here to take money out Ms. Chrys-Chrysanthemum (he stumbled over her name, who could blame him?) and Mr. Harry Potter's safe. The goblin requested a key. Hagrid turned out his pockets, plopping something green and fuzzy onto the goblin's notebook. The goblin made a Petunia-ish sniff of disgust. Chrys turned to exchange a knowing look with her brother, but Harry had gotten distracted by some rubies the size of a child's fist.

Finally Hagrid held up the key, and the goblin examined it with approval. Then Hagrid stood up straighter as he mentioned Dumbledore's mysteriously important business. He handed over a letter from the headmaster. This got the goblin's full attention. He read quickly and carefully, and then called forth another goblin named Griphook. Hagrid took a moment to refill his pockets and then they were on their way.

Characteristically, Harry questioned Hagrid about the vault. The twins were taken aback when Hagrid refused to tell them. After all Hagrid had been answering their questions all day. Chrys supposed this second vault was serious business. Though according to Griphook the goblin, almost anything could be serious business.

He had an intensely formal look on his face as he propped open the wrought metal door with his foot. Chrys thought he must be deceptively strong.

Harry gasped as they stepped into the dark, slim tunnel. The flickering light from the burning torches was a bit spooky. Chrys gripped the rough walls as she moved down the steep incline. The passage felt like it had been designed for the fear-factor rather than practicality. At the end of the path was a bottomless gorge, with a miniature line of tracks rising from it. All it would take was one clumsy step and then suddenly the cold wind would be press against your body as you fell down…. down…down… There would be no end to it. Chrys shuddered.

Griphook's piercing whistle snapped her out of her thoughts.

A little cart came racing down the tracks towards them. It came to a halting stop and they all squeezed inside (Hagrid was a tight fit). Automatically the cart took off, moving forward. Harry closely watched their swift progress through the tunnels. Hagrid and Chrys clutched at their stomachs. The jerky twists and turns were enough to make anyone woozy. Chrys closed her eyes, not wanting watch the jagged rocks above and below them. Harry said something, and Hagrid responded, but their words were snatched up by the relentless wind. Chrys bent over close to Harry's ear and suggested he shut up.

When the cart finally came to a still, Hagrid got out first supporting himself against the wall as his legs wobbled. Chrys took a couple deep, soothing breaths.

Then Griphook unlocked a door and Chrys froze. Some sort of green fog was oozing out of the vault. When it cleared Chrys lost her breath. Harry gapped. Gold, silver and bronze coins lined the rooms in sizeable stacks. Hagrid happily told them it was all theirs.

"I never knew we were rich," Chrys said, running her fingers along the smooth edges. Harry nodded.

"Let's not tell the Durselys though. They'll take it all without a second thought. They've always complained about much we cost to keep."

"Please," Chrys snorted. "As if they spent any more than the smallest possible amount. Anyway, lets not think about them for a moment. Hagrid, what's the worth of these things?"

Hagrid explained the value of the wizarding currency while helping them each fill a small bag. Chrys tried to listen, but the sheer amount of glinting gold was far more intriguing than the worth of a singular coin. This looked like a hoard of treasure from one her storybooks. She glanced around excitedly, remembering Hagrid's comment from earlier. Disappointedly there was no dragon.

Equally annoyingly, they had to travel by hurtling cart again. Hagrid remarked that he'd like to go a bit more slowly this time. Griphook informed them that it was one speed only. Chrys sighed.

She thought the goblin had lied.

They seemed to zip even faster along the tracks towards the second destination. Chrys shivered against the chilling wind tried to use Hagrid's mass as a shield. The further they moved into the caverns, the darker and more mysterious they became. She could hear water gushing below them. Harry leaned forward to investigate and nearly went tumbling to his death. Hagrid and Chrys groaned and collectively dragged him back by his shirt. Chrys tried to reprimand him, but Harry could not, or pretended not to be able to hear her.

The next vault was just as peculiar as Hagrid's secrecy had made her expect. For one thing there was no keyhole. Griphook swaggered over to the door and caressed it with one of his long fingers. The door dissolved into thin air. Griphook commented that this trick was a goblin specialty—if anyone else tried they'd suddenly be stuck inside the vault. Harry's curiosity was not dissuaded by his recent near-death experience. He asked Griphook how often the bank checked for prisoners. Griphook offhandedly answered, once a decade. Chrys winced at the goblin's awful grin.

Meanwhile Harry was practically bouncing out of his shoes in anticipation. They leaned forward and the contents of the vault revealed…it was a lonesome paper bag. Harry was clearly disappointed. Chrys saw him purse his lips tightly, probably preventing himself from asking a million extra questions. Hagrid shoved the bag into his coat (which Chrys thought was a very good hiding place indeed). Then he shut down the chance for any conversation on the matter by motioning at his stomach and saying he should keep probably keep his mouth closed at this point.

Chrys understood perfectly.

The ride back was no easier on their stomachs, but when they stepped out of the bank, the sun was shining brightly in the lovely blue sky. Chrys felt her heart lighten. Harry was staring down at his bag of money in awe. "This…this is more money than even Dudley's ever had," he said to Chrys. "What are we supposed to do with it? We could buy anything."

Hagrid suggested they get their uniforms next.

"Score one for practicality," Chrys said, smiling fondly at Hagrid.

As it was, Hagrid needed to head to the Leaky Cauldron for a pick-me-up, so the twins ended up going into _Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions_ on their own. Chrys rubbed her stomach sympathetically as she glanced around the shop.

The array of robes ranged from basically a dress, to plain and black, and even somewhat masculine. However, Chrys had no idea which were the correct ones for school.

Luckily, a woman, whom Chrys guessed was Madam Malkin herself, entered the room at that very moment. Harry smiled hesitantly at her, but Madam Malkin knew exactly what they were there for. "I've got room for one more in back. Who would like to be fitted first?" She asked, looking between the two of them. Brave Harry nodded his assent. Madam Malkin herded him out of the room. "Just wait here dear," she told Chrys.

Chrys huffed and leaned against the windowsill. Getting bored, she tapped her foot and started fidgeting with the sleeve of the flouncy looking robe on display. She wished she'd thought to bring her sketchbook with her. After a couple of minutes Chrys began to get anxious. Was Harry doing all right without her? She was just wondering whether she should burst into the other room when she saw Hagrid standing outside. She ran outside to greet him, extra pleased when she saw he was balancing three large ice creams in his arms.

"Hi Chrys. Take one will yeh, 's about ter spill."

Chyrs carefully maneuvered one of the ice creams into her hands and licked it enthusiastically. "Harry's getting fitted," she explained after she swallowed. Hagrid nodded. The two were mostly occupied by companionable noisy slurping until Hagrid spotted Harry through the back window. Hagrid and Chrys waved happily, gesturing at the third ice cream. Harry nodded at them, but his expression was somewhat cold. He appeared to be talking to the haughty looking blonde boy standing at his side. By Harry's frown, Chrys surmised it was not a pleasant conversation. She was relieved when Harry came out shortly after. She immediately shoved his ice cream into his hand, hoping it would raise his spirits. Harry stared quietly at it. "It's chocolate and raspberry with chopped nuts," she told him encouragingly.

"Somethin' wrong Harry?" Hagrid asked in concern. Chrys opened her mouth, but was interrupted by Madam Malkin who stuck her head out of the shop and signaled Chrys inside.

"Oh dear, what have you done to your hands? Do try not to get it on the robes." Madam Malkin instructed her as she led Chrys into the back room. Chrys sheepishly tried to lick the chocolate off of her hands. The blonde boy passed Chrys on his way out, sneering at her with raised eyebrows. Chrys stuck her tongue out at him, which made him blink in surprise. Madam Malkin tutted like a mother hen as she helped Chrys onto a stool. "Now, now, that was not very ladylike," she scolded as she slipped a robe over Chrys' head. Chrys chose to stay silent.

When she came out of the shop Hagrid and Harry were all ready finished with their ice creams, and the rest of hers had melted to the consistency of soup. She sipped it gloomily, noting that Harry looked particularly thoughtful. "What's up?" She asked. "Did the rude blondie get on your nerves?"

"Well yes, he was a bit of a bully…even to his own parents," Harry answered as they followed Hagrid to the next shop.

"Sounds like Dudley," Chrys commented.

"He said muggle raised students shouldn't be allowed in Hogwarts," Harry added with a sigh.

"Oh…don't worry about it Harry. It was a mean thing to say but it's got no justification. We're smart kids, and apparently we're magical, so we have the right to go to a magical school. As for those who raised us, well, the Durselys suck but… We choose what family is important to us." She flashed him what she hoped was a comforting smile. Harry returned the grin.

"Yeah, Hagrid said something along the same lines. He also said mum was great at magic despite being related to Aunt Petunia."

"Then there's hope for us yet."

"Definitely…oh and guess what? The blonde mentioned something called Quidditch, and Hagrid explained to me." Chrys nodded at him to continue. "So it's this really popular sport that they play on broomstick. I'd love to fly," he said dreamily.

"Not me." Chrys frowned. Harry stared into the distance, lost somewhere in fantasyland. She kicked him lightly, bringing him back into the conversation.

"Right, so there are school houses in Hogwarts, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Slytherin being some of them. Slytherin was the blonde boy's favorite—but Hagrid said that loads of dark wizards, including Voldemort, came from Slytherin. Hufflepuff sounds a bit silly, but anything's better than being in the same house as the man who killed our parents I guess."

"Have to say I agree with you there." Chrys nodded. "Do you think that…" She trailed off catching sight of the shop they were going into. "_Flourish and Blotts_! That's the shop I was looking at earlier."

Chrys and Harry wandered through the shop, starting a competition to see who could find the oddest books. Hagrid had to pull Harry away from a shelf of curse related books. Harry had wanted to find a way to curse Dudley, and though Hagrid didn't disagree with the premise, he warned Harry that they were not allowed to use magic in the muggle world (except on very special occasions). Anyway, those curses would be too difficult for them at their current level. Chrys tried to commit some of the titles to memory…for future reference of course.

At the cauldron shop Harry was for some reason drawn to a solid gold one, but Hagrid talked him down to pewter like it said on the list. The shiny scales were quite pretty looking though, as were the collapsible telescopes.

At the quill and stationary shop Chrys spent a long time browsing through the different sorts of quills, and admiring the grain of the parchment. "It's just paper and writing utensils, nothing special," Harry said grumpily.

"We'll see who's talking when I have beautiful penmanship and your quill snaps in two seconds," Chrys retorted. Hagrid shook his head and jostled them off to the apothecary, which was horribly stinky, but nevertheless intriguing. Harry and Chrys stared at the dried herbs and animal bits that hung from the ceiling while Hagrid ordered two beginners' packages.

Then he announced they were almost done shopping. The last items they had to buy were wands—besides which, Hagrid wanted to get them a birthday present.

"The cake, ice cream and proof that there's an entire magical world that we're a part of isn't enough of a gift?" Chrys asked. Harry flushed, trying to tell Hagrid not to go to the trouble.

"Don' worry 'bout it," Hagrid told them. He chose to get them a pet. Toads were unfashionable, and cats made him sneeze, so he decided on an owl. In fact, he offered to buy them each an owl of their own, but Chrys and Harry assured him that they were perfectly happy sharing.

When they exited the Owl Emporium twenty minutes later, they were both more than happy. Harry carried a cage that contained their new gorgeous owl. They had agreed on the clever looking snowy owl that had landed neatly on the table next to them just when they were starting to argue about which sort to get. "Aww…she's sleeping with her head under her wing, she's so adorable!" Chrys cooed in an undertone. Harry clutched the cage tighter.

"Thank you Hagrid, seriously, thank you so much," he repeated for what felt like the twentieth time. Hagrid waved his hand nonchalantly, reflecting that the Dursleys' probably weren't big on presents.

"They give us socks mostly," Chrys explained. Uncle Vernon's socks were particularly foul. Hagrid let out a big sigh and changed the subject, telling them that _Ollivander's_, which was the best place for wands, was their last stop.

"I've been really looking forward to this," Harry breathed as they stood in front of the door.

They stepped inside and Chrys sneezed. "Bless yeh," Hagrid muttered, handing her a handkerchief, as he sat down on a rickety looking chair.

"Cheers," Chrys replied, rubbing her nose with the musty cloth. She tried to hand it back to him, but he shook his head, so she shoved it in her pocket. Then she looked around. Her eyes had to take a moment to adjust to the dim lighting. The windows were so dingy, and the flames in the lamps crouched low. Once she could see she blinked hurriedly. No wonder her nose felt so ticklish—every surface of the room was covered in dust. And there were plenty of surfaces to be covered. Though the room was small to begin with, the shelves surrounding them on all sides made the room feel even narrower. The shelves themselves, sagged and tilted under the weight of endless amounts of slender boxes. Chrys guessed the boxes to be filled with wands. She leaned forward excitedly.

"Do you feel sort of tingly?" Harry asked in a hushed voice. Chrys wondered if he meant the feeling she had of constantly being about to sneeze. She jumped suddenly, when a voice came out of nowhere, bidding them a good afternoon.

Harry and Hagrid jumped as well. Hagrid's chair cracked…Chrys could have predicted that.

The old man who had appeared so suddenly, gazed unblinkingly at them. The man's humongous silvery eyes made the back of her neck crawl. Harry returned the greeting automatically, though Chrys could see he was as weirded out as she was.

The man knew who they were right away, and spoke as if he had been expecting them. He said that Harry had their mother's eyes, and began to reminisce about the day that she bought her wand. He remembered all the little details as if he were reading them off of a piece of paper. Then Mr. Ollivander leaned in close—too close in Chrys' opinion. She took a large step back. Ollivander turned his focus on her. "And Chrysanthemum Potter…you have your father's eyes…" He listed off the facts of their father's wand, adding that 'the wand chooses the wizard.' By his tone Chrys could tell it must be a favorite adage of his. "But what wand will choose you? That is the question of course."

"Ah, right," Harry spoke up. "That's what we're here for." Ollivander's disconcerting eyes snapped back to Harry. He delicately touched Harry's scar, telling them that unfortunately he also sold the wand that made those marks upon their skin… His gaze shone far off into the past as he recalled that mighty wand with such a captivated pull to his voice… Chrys made a frustrated noise, grabbing Harry by the shoulders and placing him protectively behind her. Hagrid coughed, breaking Ollivander out of his thoughts, and drawing his attention to the other man. He cheerfully remembered Hagrid's wand, but became strict when he remembered it had been snapped at Hagrid's expulsion. When Hagrid mentioned he'd kept the pieces Ollivander became even sterner, saying he hoped Hagrid wasn't _using_ the pieces. Hagrid denied this, but Chrys saw how he clutched at his pink umbrella as he spoke.

Ollivander murmured knowingly and then pulled out a tape measurer, deciding to drop the subject. He asked what the twins' wand arms were. Harry hesitantly replied that he was right handed. Chrys commented that she favored her left. Ollivander took out a silver tape measurer and started measuring the length of their preferred arms. Then tape measurer floated up, going about its own business of further measurements when Ollivander became distracted again. He rambled on about wand cores, and how important the perfect ones, unicorn hair, phoenix tail feathers and dragon heartstring, were to the wand making process. Every wand was as unique as the person paired with it. Wands always worked the best in the hands of the wizards they chose.

Then he stopped the tape measurer, handing a wand to Harry and telling him to give it a try. Harry made a face, but gave it a wave anyway. Nothing happened. Ollivander took it away and handed a different one to Chrys.

The twins were given wand after wand, but none of seemed to be what Mr. Ollivander was looking for. Chrys would have thought the lengthening time of their visit would have upset Ollivander, but on the contrary he seemed overjoyed to meet the challenge. He promised to find a perfect match for each of them.

"Cedar and dragon heartstring. Eleven inches, and fairly bendy. How about it Ms. Potter?" Chrys was tired, and aggravated, but she took it. The wand touched her fingers and she jolted. It was like a shock of electricity through her system; similar to that time she'd gotten her finger stuck in a power outlet. Exhilarated, Chrys raised it into the air and brought it down again like a conducting baton. The flames in the lamps rose up suddenly, licking playfully along the walls. Chrys' eyes widened. She slowly placed the wand down on the table. She opened her mouth to apologize. She had been so sure…"Good fit, certainly a good fit," Ollivander said, his bushy eyebrows wriggling happily.

"Bu-but I set the walls on fire," Chrys told him incredulously. His eyebrows turned quizzical.

"Well, together you and that wand could definitely inflict some damage—Never cross a cedar wand I always say. However, at the moment I think you will find, everything is in order." He gestured around them and Chrys nearly laughed. The flames had receded back into their lamps and the walls remained the same as ever, completely un-scorched. Hagrid smiled down at her, and thumped her on the back. Chrys nearly fell over.

"Well then, I'll take it!" She announced. She could get addicted to that feeling, like lightning in her blood.

"No, no, the wand will take you," Ollivander corrected her with a wink. "Yes, and now for Mr. Potter…"

Harry had been staring dejectedly at his feet. Ollivander handed him a rare combination wand and from the look on Harry's face as he took it, Chrys could tell it was the one. When Harry swished the wand red and gold flashes lit up the room beautifully. Hagrid and Chrys applauded and cheered.

"We've got wands," Chrys said, hugging Harry suddenly. "We've got wands and we're going to learn how to do magic!" Harry beamed.

Chrys happily waited as Ollivander boxed and wrapped up their wands. Now that she had what she came for, she felt somewhat bad for thinking he was creepy. Her guilty mood did not last long.

She felt intensely justified for her original assessment of him when he started mumbling about how curious Harry's wand was. Of course, Harry had to ask what was so curious about his wand. Ollivander's protuberant eyes flickered up to Harry's scar.

Slowly he explained that Harry's wand had a brother, whose core had a feather from the same phoenix. It was curious that this wand should choose Harry, when the other gave him that scar. Harry gulped. Chrys narrowed her eyes. Once again Ollivander spoke in fascination about Voldemort's wand, and its immense power. He was certain that Harry was going to be a great wizard, after all the owner of the other wand had been a great wizard (Chrys bristled), oh a terrible wizard, but certainly great. Harry shuddered and handed over the money. Ollivander bowed. Chrys grabbed their wands and marched them out of the shop.

The rest of the day seemed inordinately quiet compared to the earlier bustling attitude. Harry held their owl's cage tight to his chest, lost in his thoughts. Hagrid kept a respectable silence as he carried their many, oddly shaped packages. Chrys thought that neither of them realized how the 'muggles' eyes continued to follow them along their walk. She knew they looked strange, but at the moment she felt raw and just wanted to be left alone.

Hagrid eased their pains slightly, by taking them for hamburgers at a dinner next to the station. He chewed slowly as they waited for their train. Chrys held her food in front of her mouth, but she was too distracted to even take a bite. Harry was glancing around like a paranoid wreck.

"You two all right?" Hagrid asked softly. Harry finally started on his hamburger, perhaps as an excuse not to talk.

"It's been weird today," Chrys said by way of explanation. Harry nodded, going onto say that everyone thought they were special, but they didn't know anything about magic…he couldn't live up to their expectations. He was famous, but he couldn't remember the act that made him famous. He couldn't remember the night their parents died.

Hagrid moved closer to them, smiling in a tenderly sympathetic way. Though his appearance was wild, and larger than life, Hagrid was the kindest person she had ever met. Not that she had much to compare him to but…

Hagrid told them not to worry. Everyone in his year was just starting off. Everyone loved Hogwarts, including him. He still loves Hogwarts. And sure the twins are a bit different, and it's hard to feel separate from the crowd, but Hagrid was confident that they would do just fine. More than fine actually, he thought they would do great.

Chrys wiped her eyes on her newly bequeathed handkerchief. Harry bumped her shoulder teasingly, but she noticed he also looked a bit emotional.

She dug into her food with renewed vigor, and soon it was time to board the train.

Chrys read the map, making sure she knew the route back. Hagrid handed Harry an envelope. "Two ticket fer Hogwarts," He told them. They were to be used on the first of December, at King's Cross. If the Dursleys gave them problems, the twins should contact him. Their owl would find him. Hagrid said goodbye, and looked pleasantly surprised when Chrys gave him a quick hug before hopping onto the train. Harry followed and the doors shut. The train started to pull out of the station. Harry raised his hand to wave to Hagrid but…

"He's gone, just like that."

Chrys balanced her packages more steadily against her hip. "Such a curious ending to a curious day."

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**~Fin~  
**

**Well, there you go. Diagon Alley through the eyes of Chrys. Next chapter, as I'm sure you know, involves a very red train, as well as some redheaded children.**


	6. Of Sweets and Meets

**Yet another chapter is appearing. Thank you for the reviews.  
**

**zebragirl5: **Thank you! I'll try, but it'll be difficult cause I don't want to put too much of the original dialogue in. I'll try for entirely new conversations and elaborating on things that were barely mentioned.

**SeannaLester: **I will definitely stray from the originally story in a sense... I'll try to keep it as canon as possible, but I'll some parts of the story that Harry was not there for, or things that could have been going on alongside the original story. Thanks! And yes, I can imagine Malfoy's face doing many hilarious things...

******BTW, don't own _Harry Potter_. Never have, and pretty sure I never will.**

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The Potter Twins and the Sorcerer's Stone:

**Chapter Five: **Of Sweets and Meets

"This is so not fun," Chrys said with a sigh. Harry poked his head down from the top bunk.

"You can say that again." For the past month the twins had stuck mostly to their new bedroom. Once more they were alone. Even the Dursleys' minimalist company was gone. Dudley was terrified that the twins were going to rain magical fury down on him, so he stayed out of their way. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon took another approach, ignoring the twins completely, as if they simply didn't exist. It was a safer sort of atmosphere in Number 4 Privet Drive, but nonetheless boring.

"This is so not fun," Chrys repeated.

"…At least we've got Hedwig," Harry said, gazing down at the owl perched on Dudley's unused desk.

"Yes, definitely." Chrys beamed at Hedwig. "I still say it's a weird name though." Harry had found the name in one of their course books, _A History of Magic_. Harry had stayed up all night to read it. Chrys preferred fiction. She'd cracked open Dudley's set of _Sherlock Holmes _books, and made her way through them like they were a stack of licorice.

"It was an interesting book and an interesting name." Harry shrugged. "Besides, she likes it."

"She's being diplomatic," Chrys argued. "Because she likes you for some reason. Really though, it's not a good name. I feel sorry for your future children."

"Oh ha, ha." Harry rolled over in his bed, staring at the ceiling.

"She deserves a more majestic name," Chrys continued, having nothing better to do. "Have you seen the way she swoops in and out of the window? It's beautiful."

"You're becoming obsessive," Harry warned her.

"No."

"How many sketches of her have you done by now?" She'd found a notebook amongst Dudley's broken things and had since filled the pages with drawings of Hagrid, goblins, and magic. More often than not she ended up studying Hedwig and trying to translate her awesomeness onto the page. The feathers, movement and expressions were difficult to get right, but when she managed it she felt quite proud of herself.

"An uncountable amount," Chrys admitted. "Okay, maybe I'm just a _little_ obsessed. I like having a pet though…even if she does drop dead mice everywhere."

"Yeah…good thing Aunt Petunia hasn't come in here to clean, she'd have a fit."

"Well soon we won't have to worry about that anymore. How many days until we escape this prison?" Chrys asked. She'd drawn out a calendar. Harry was in charge of ticking off the days.

"Two more…huh… maybe tomorrow we should try talking Uncle Vernon into driving us to King's Cross. Otherwise we'll have to put some money together…and I'm pretty sure we can't pay for a cab with golden galleons."

"Too right you are…okay, let's give it a shot."

The next day Harry stood behind Uncle Vernon and loudly cleared his throat. Dudley squealed (how apt) and ran out of the room. Uncle Vernon pretended he couldn't hear anything. So Harry and Chrys stood directly in front of Uncle Vernon, blocking his view of the television. Harry went on to say that they needed a lift tomorrow, to get to King's Cross Station, so they could go to school. Uncle Vernon responded solely in grunts.

"Does that mean a yes?" Chrys whispered.

"I suppose so," Harry decided warily. "Er, thank you Uncle Vernon." The two of them turned to go back upstairs when Uncle Vernon suddenly spoke up. It was the first time he'd said something to either of them all month…and it was a joke about flying carpets. It was the twins' turn to be silent. With most people Chrys would have laughed to be polite. With Uncle Vernon she'd given up on that ages ago. Uncle Vernon continued anyway, wondering aloud where the school was. Harry suddenly realized he had no idea. Chrys pulled one of the tickets out of her pocket. It read: _Platform nine and three-quarters at eleven o'clock_. Harry told Uncle Vernon.

Uncle Vernon blinked stupidly, asking him to repeat. Harry did. Uncle Vernon told them that was rubbish, there was no such thing as platform nine and three quarters.

"That's what's on our tickets," Chrys answered. Aunt Petunia (who was still feigning deafness) sniffed in her usual disapproving sort of way. Uncle Vernon shook his head, telling them it was mad, but he'd take them to King's Cross anyway. He was going to be in London tomorrow, so he might as well. Harry conversationally asked why Uncle Vernon was going to London. Uncle Vernon grumbled that he was taking Dudley to the hospital to get the stupid tail removed before school started.

_Now_ Chrys laughed. Uncle Vernon glared.

* * *

Chrys woke up to the noise of creaking bedsprings above her. She leaned over and peered blearily at the repaired alarm clock. She cursed. "Harry! It's only five o'clock, stop bouncing around and go to sleep."

"Can't, too excited," Harry replied shortly. Chrys sighed.

"I'm usually the one with sleeping problems," she mumbled. "Fine, we might as well get dressed and double check our luggage."

"Great!" Harry sprung off his bed and started throwing clothes up into the air, searching for something to wear. "Do you think I should go with robes? Probably not, right? The robes would look strange on the platform and we'll probably have time to change on the train…right? But what if we don't?"

"Who gave you coffee?" Chrys shook her head, and laid out floral khakis that must have been from Aunt Petunia's university days.

"No one…but I could make some—"

"Please don't, or I'll start making puns," she threatened.

"Oh, okay." Harry grabbed a pair of jeans and tiptoed out of the room. When he came back Chrys was dressed and going through her list once more.

"I've got all my books packed," she said, feeling accomplished. "What about you?"

"Me too." Harry nodded. "Though it can't hurt to check one more time."

For the next two hours Harry paced back and forth. Chrys chatted with Hedwig as they waited for the Dursleys to wake up. Then they packed up the car while Uncle Vernon sat in the driver's seat, tapping his foot. It was proving difficult to convince Dudley to get into the car with the twins. Aunt Petunia was trying her best with all matter of bribery and coaxing. Finally Chrys, worried that they would be late, strode up to Dudley, looked him straight in the eye and promised to do him no harm. "And unlike some people," she quirked an eyebrow at him. "_I _keep my promises." Aunt Petunia glared and handed Dudley a bag of sweets for good measure. Dudley reluctantly got into the car, clutching the bag in front of him like a shield. "Is that licorice I smell?" Chrys asked casually after they had been driving for some while. Dudley fidgeted uncomfortably and then thrust the bag at her. Chrys took a large handful of her favorite candy and handed the bag back to him. "Good boy," she said quietly so that her aunt and uncle couldn't hear. Dudley frowned. Harry sniggered.

They got to the station with half an hour to spare, though Chrys wasn't sure that would be enough. Uncle Vernon rushed them out of the car and helped them drag their stuff over to the platform. Harry opened his mouth, probably about to thank him, when Chrys suddenly grabbed his arm and gestured up above them. There was a sign for platform nine, and on the other side a sign for platform ten…but nowhere in sight was there a platform nine and three-quarters.

Uncle Vernon said as much, grinning evilly, joking that they must not have built it yet. He wished them a good term, his smile growing even darker as he got back into the car, shutting the door and driving away. The entire family was laughing nastily. The twins watched them sadly. Harry licked his lips nervously. Chrys shrunk closer to him as people stared. Of course they would stare, they did have a caged owl strapped to their luggage.

"Maybe we should ask someone," Harry suggested. Chrys gave him a noncommittal shrug.

"There's a guard over there. Though my bet is he'll just laugh even harder than the Dursleys," she said bitterly.

"Right well…we've got to start somewhere." Harry stepped up to the guard. "Um, sorry…I mean, hi…ah…do you happen to know which platform the train bound for Hogwarts is leaving from?" Chrys noted that he didn't mention anything about platform nine and three-quarters. In her opinion it was a smart move.

"Hogwarts? What's that? Never heard of it," the guard said frowning at the twins, clearly wondering if they were pulling his leg.

"Um, it's a school," Harry told him.

"Never heard of it," the guard repeated. "But okay, where is this school located? What part of the country?"

"Ah…" Harry turned to Chrys, silently asking for help.

"We don't know," Chrys answered through gritted teeth. The guard's annoyance was mounting.

"Well then, how am I supposed to help you find your train?" Clearly he thought they lacked common sense.

"Well what about a train leaving at eleven then?" Harry asked, as a last ditch effort.

"There isn't one," the guard said firmly. "Now if you'll stop wasting my time there are people in this station who actually need my help…" With that he stomped away from them muttering, "Stupid kids, stupid time wasters."

"What now?" Harry said. His eyebrows knitted together as he glanced around frantically.

"Calm down Harry," Chrys said, trying to take her own advice. She took a couple of deep breaths, planing their next move.

"Calm down?" Harry started pacing again. "We're stranded in the middle of London, with two heavy trunks, lots of money we can't use, and very suspicious owl. How am I supposed to stay calm?"

"You know, you're supposed to be the one who keeps his head in a crises," Chrys reminded him. "Would it help if I started freaking out too? What if I mentioned that we only have ten minutes left before our train leaves?" She gestured up the station clock. Harry gulped.

"Okay, okay…" He pressed his hand up against the pocket where Chrys knew he'd stashed his wand. "Maybe Hagrid forgot to tell us the trick for getting to the platform. Maybe it's like Diagon Alley and we have to tap a wall to get in…I could try the ticket stand, it's sort of in-between platforms nine and ten."

"Or…" Chrys started, remembering Harry's tendency towards spectacularly failing ideas. Suddenly Harry froze and staring at the large group of ginger people passing in front of them. There was one rotund woman, holding a little girl's hand, followed by four ginger boys pushing carts of their own.

"She said something about muggles, let's follow them!" Harry hissed quietly, clutching his trunk and wheeling after them. Chrys closed her eyes for a second and then opened them, following after her twin and deciding to trust his judgment.

Luckily, Harry's rashness proved warranted. The daughter, who was evidently named Ginny, excitedly mentioned Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Ginny wanted to go to Hogwarts, but her mother said she was too young. Instead the mum turned to the oldest looking boy, called Percy, and told him to go first. Percy strutted up to the dividing barrier between platforms nine and ten. The twins watched his progress carefully. Unfortunately their viewpoint was swiftly blocked by a large flow of tourists, and when the way had cleared, Percy the strutting ginger was nowhere to be seen.

Harry frowned, looking to the rest of the family. The mother told one of the ginger twins to go next. Fred (or was it George?) confused his mother about which twin was which. When the mum apologized, he revealed that he was in fact Fred. Chrys laughed quietly, in spite of the situation. It was the sort of joke she would've liked to play had she and Harry looked more alike. Quick as a blink both Fred and George disappeared somewhere towards the barrier. "Did you see what happened?" Chrys whispered. Harry shook his head. He grabbed Chrys' hand, pulling her forward.

"We might not get another chance," he said, before gazing imploringly at the ginger matriarch. The woman seemed to understand their position immediately. She said that her last son, Ron, was going into his first year at Hogwarts also. Ron was awkwardly tall, with big puppy-like hands and feet, and a smatter of freckles across his long nose. Harry began to say that they didn't know how to get on the platform. The woman finished his sentence for him, telling him not to worry. All they had to do was walk straight at the barrier, and go quickly if they were nervous. Chrys wanted to say, 'oh, is that all?' but she kept her mouth shut.

Harry gave her a motivating look and they were off. They moved briskly towards the brick wall. Chrys did not like the idea of crashing, making a big mess and getting into trouble. If she was going to get into trouble she wanted it to be the fun sort of trouble, not the painful kind. Harry built up speed, breaking into a run as they got closer. Chrys mimicked him and closed her eyes as her the momentum pushed her forward.

Then she heard Harry laugh. She opened her eyes and saw a bright red locomotive, pumping steam onto the secret platform. A sign above the train identified it as the _Hogwarts Express_ ready for departure at eleven o'clock. "Thank goodness," she sighed. Harry tapped her on the shoulder and gestured behind them. Where the barrier had been there was now another sign that said _Platform Nine and Three-Quarters_.

"We did it." Harry beamed. Chrys looked around at the massive, noisy crowd. Students in robes were all ready packed into the train, waving down at their families, and fighting over compartments. Harry pushed his cart along the platform, searching for an open spot. Chrys was people watching. There was a round-faced boy who dejectedly told his grandmother that he'd lost his toad…again. A boy named Lee held up a box, surrounded by a curious crowd. Chrys leaned forward as the lid came off and a hairy leg peeped out. The crowd yelped and drew back.

Harry tugged her over to the back of the train. "Found an empty compartment," he said proudly. He lifted Hedwig's cage up first, carefully placing her inside the train. Then he got to work on lifting his trunk. It was too heavy and came down hard on his foot. "Terrific," Harry muttered. Chrys coughed, trying not to feel too amused. Then someone offered a hand. Harry agreed right away, still a bit short of breath. Chrys smiled when she saw it was one of the ginger twins. He called over his identical brother, and together the four of them managed to tuck the two trunks up into the compartment. Harry thanked them gratefully as he wiped his sweaty bangs out of his face. One of the twins made an exclamation of surprise, pointing at his forehead. The other turned and looked at Chrys. She frowned and tried to arrange her hair in a more conservative way. It was too late though.

They spoke in tandem asking Chrys and Harry if they were "The Potter twins?"

"Oh them…I mean, yes, that's us," Harry said, still not used to the recognition. The ginger twins stared openly. Harry flushed red.

"He gets embarrassed easily," Chrys said with a small smile. One of the ginger twins chuckled in a disbelieving sort of way. Then their mother called for them.

"We're coming mum," they shouted back impatiently. They continued to gape at Harry and Chrys as they hopped off the train.

"Ugh." Harry let out a breath of relief and went to sit down, slipping into a corner where he would be hidden from view.

"There they are again," Chrys said with interest. She sneakily watched the red-haired family gather together. The mother took out a handkerchief and tried to rub some dirt off of Ron's nose. Ron tried to escape, but his mother's clutch was too tight. She scrubbed at his face as Ron struggled. His brothers teased him, Ron told them to shut up. Then Percy arrived, wearing his robes. He puffed up his chest, drawing attention to the sparkling clean badge pinned on it. He reminded his mother that he needed to join the other prefects in their special compartment. His twin brothers cut off his bragging, poking fun at him as well. The mother kissed prideful Percy goodbye before he strode off in annoyance. She tried to lecture the twins, but they managed to use her words as ammunition for another joke. Then one of the twins switched gears, excitedly telling their mother who they'd just ran into.

Harry and Chrys slunk further out of the way as the ginger twins explained that the dark haired kids from before, were actually the famous Potter twins.

The youngest girl jumped up and down, begging her mother to let her go see them. Her mother argued that Ginny had all ready seen the Potter twins, and besides, two kids were nothing to be gawked at. Chrys appreciated that. Besides, the mother added, how could they even before sure it was the Potter twins? Fred mentioned that they saw the scars, which were really shaped like lightning. The mother made a noise of comprehension, realizing that was why those kids had been alone. Chrys frowned. Fred (evidently the more talkative twin), wondered if they remembered anything about You-Know-Who. Chrys scowled. Perhaps these twins weren't nearly as funny as she'd initially thought.

Fortunately, the mother gave them strict orders not to bring that up. Her sons quickly boarded the train, letting her kiss them goodbye through the window. They cheered their sister up when she started to cry. Chrys clutched at her seat as the Hogwarts Express chugged forward. Ginny was laughing and crying all at once as she ran after the train, shouting goodbye.

Chrys sighed as the platform and all the people on it disappeared from sight. "It would've been nice to have a family to wave us goodbye." She pouted.

"Come on, you can't expect the Dursleys to cry as we leave…well unless they were tears of joy," Harry said pointedly. Chrys laughed, which had probably been his aim, and they two of them settled more comfortably into their seats. "Anyway," Harry continued. "You should be excited. I don't know where we're going, but anything's got to be better than what we're leaving."

"You—"

Suddenly the door slid open. Gangly Ron stood uneasily in the doorway. He asked if he could sit with them, saying that everywhere else was full. Harry and Chrys exchanged a look, and then nodded together. That family was intriguing, and they could use some more intriguing people in their lives.

Ron sat down silently. For the next couple of minutes he kept glancing at the twins when he thought they wouldn't notice. Chrys found this a bit rude, and was about to point out (somewhat spitefully) that he still had dirt on his nose, when the other set of twins promptly opened the door and stuck their heads in.

They nonchalantly greeted their brother, mentioning they were going to hang out with their friend Lee Jordan, who had adopted a tarantula. Ron shuddered.

"Really?" Chrys and Harry chorused. Chrys wondered if spiders had any magical properties.

Fred and George casually nodded at them, as if they hadn't been goggling just before.

"Harry," started probably Fred.

"And…Chrysanthemum?" added possibly George. His tongue curled over her name in awkward exaggeration.

"That's quite a mouthful," Fred finished with a grin.

"I know," Chrys nodded, trying to decide whether or not she was angry with them about a conversation she wasn't supposed to have heard. "I prefer Chrys."

"Well Harry and Chrysanthemum then. We're Fred and George Weasley and that's Ron, our little brother. See you around." They slammed the door shut behind them.

"Bye," Harry, Chrys and Ron said unanimously. They looked at each other in amusement, and Ron finally blurted out what he wanted to say.

"Are you two really the Potter twins?"

Harry and Chrys nodded. Ron was hesitant. He explained that he thought Fred and George had been stringing him along, it was the sort of thing they might have done after all. Then his eyes flickered to their foreheads. He pointed back and forth between them. Harry uncovered his scar. Chrys rolled her eyes and did the same. Ron gawked and started to ask about their parents' murderer. Harry cut him off quickly. He told Ron they only remembered very little of that night. Ron encouraged him to continue. Harry mumbled about the flash of green light that was burned into their memories. Ron was amazed. In turn, Harry seemed to think Ron was fascinating. When Ron finally realized he was staring, and gazed out of the window instead, Harry engaged him in conversation again, asking if all Ron's family were wizards. Chrys drummed her fingers against the seat cushion. It would be exciting to hear more about magic.

Ron managed to deflect the question, asking about their muggle family. Chrys made a face and a noise like, "Bleh!"

"Muggles are that bad?" Ron wondered.

Harry assured him that not all muggles were horrible, though their aunt, uncle and cousin were. Harry would much rather have had three wizarding brothers. Chrys coughed pointedly, not wanting him to forget the one magical family member who sat beside him.

In a surprisingly melancholy tone, Ron mentioned that he actually had five older brothers, all of whom were very smart and likable. It felt like it didn't matter what he accomplished, because his older brothers would have all ready done it first.

Chrys wished she could say something to boost his self-esteem.

Ron went on to say that he was tired of everything he owned being a hand-me-down. His clothes, wand, and rat were all from his brothers. He held up the washed out looking rat. That rat was called Scabbers and all it did was sleep. Ron turned away in embarrassment, as if he'd said too much about his family's money problems.

Harry sympathized. "Cheer up Ron, there's nothing wrong with not being able to afford things. Hand-me-downs might not be pretty, but they're useable. Until about a month ago I'd never owned anything of my own. All our clothes are passed down, " he said, gesturing at Chrys and himself. Ron glanced up curiously.

"At least your older brothers probably have better taste than our cousin and aunt. All those frills…" Chrys shivered.

"We've never even had proper birthday presents until this year," Harry added. Ron smiled a bit as Harry recounted their meeting with Hagrid, and how they'd finally learned about their parents and Voldemort— Ron cried out at the name. He was half-afraid and half-amazed that Harry had spoke it aloud. Harry didn't think it was that big of a deal, after all he'd only learned of the murderer's existence a month ago. They were completely new to this stuff. So much so that Harry was worrying he'd be the worst in their class. Chrys patted him on the shoulder. Ron assured them that tons of kids knew nothing about magic to start with and they caught up just fine.

"Ooh cows!" Chrys exclaimed as she caught sight of the scenery that appeared to be rushing past them.

"What's so exciting about cows?" Ron asked incredulously.

"Something to draw," Chrys said, tapping her nose. Ron turned to Harry for an explanation.

"Chrys obsessively draws whatever she finds interesting," Harry told him.

She pulled out her sketchbook and opened to some of her older drawings. "Want a look?" She offered to Ron.

"Um, sure…" Ron blinked in recognition at some of the goblin sketches. "That's quite like them! My brother Bill works with goblins you know, in Egypt. He's gotten used to them, but I still think they're a bit creepy."

Harry leaned back sleepily, probably regretting waking up so early. Just as he might have started to fall asleep, a kindly woman opened the door asked if they'd like anything off the trolley.

"Definitely!" Harry said, suddenly very alert. He popped up and went to take a look. Chrys saw Ron's ears turn pink.

"I'm okay, I've got…sandwiches," he mumbled quietly. His expression was drooping, and Chrys was trying to think of something to cheer him up, when Harry called her over.

"Chrys come see!"

"What?" She asked, walking to him. "Have you wasted all your money on Mars Bars? Because I am not dipping into my sav…" She trailed off as she caught sight of the trolley's contents. "Oh wow!" There were all sorts of sweets she'd never heard of before, though the most interesting one was without a doubt the Licorice Wands. "I'll have a large amount of those please," she said, pointing excitedly.

"And I'll have a bit of everything," Harry decided, throwing caution to the wind. Chrys wondered if she should tell him to curb his spending but…

"Well it's not like a golden cauldron, plus we haven't had breakfast," she mumbled. "So why not?" The twins came back in, grinning ear to ear. Harry's arms were stuffed, as were Chrys' cheeks. Ron's eyes widened as he saw all of Harry's purchases. Harry dumped the food onto the seats. Ron asked if Harry was hungry. Harry replied he was starving. Chrys privately thought they'd had much worse. She swallowed her mouthful of licorice and stole a piece of the pasty he was eating. "Pumpkin-y," she pronounced, concluding that she preferred the Licorice Wands. Ron sighed, reaching into his pocket and pulling out four neatly wrapped sandwiches. Chrys sniffed. "Corn beef?" she asked. Ron nodded, saying his mother always forgets he doesn't like corn beef.

"It's Percy's favorite. She mixes things up sometimes," he explained, staring dully at one of the sandwiches. Harry grabbed another pasty and offered to swap it for a sandwich. Ron gave him a doubtful look, complaining that the sandwiches were no good, they were all dry—then he turned defensive, adding that his mother didn't have time what with the five of them. Harry pushed a pasty into his hand, insisting.

"Harry likes sharing," Chrys told Ron. "He's weird that way." Harry nodded agreeably. Ron scratched his nose and unwrapped a pasty.

Pretty soon the compartment was all smiles. The boys steadily ate their way through Harry's snacks, while Chrys alternated between Ron's sandwiches and her licorice. There was a brief upset when Harry found the bunch of chocolate frogs at the bottom of his sweets pile. He was somewhat worried they might be real frogs. Ron assured him that they weren't, and that they came with collectable cards. Harry got a Dumbledore card and leaned over to show it to Chrys. She was curious to learn about the headmaster who Hagrid respected so much. She understood little of what was written on the card, but it did sound impressive. "When I'm old I might get glasses like his," she commented, flipping it over to get another look. Harry and Chrys stared when they saw that the image of the professor was gone. Ron was unbothered by this information…apparently that sort of thing was normal in the wizarding world. Harry explained that muggle pictures stayed put. Ron thought that was just as bizarre as Chrys thought moving photographs were. "So it's a bit like a film if the characters had the freedom to move around as they pleased," she concluded.

"A what?" Ron asked in confusion.

"Films…they're a muggle thing that um, tell stories with moving pictures," Chrys said, explaining it the best she could.

"Weird…"

"It think I'll start collecting," Harry said, still absorbed by the cards. He now had a handful of different ones.

"Suit yourself," Chrys said with a shrug, digging through the rest of the sweets (she was saving the remains of her licorice of a rainy day). She picked up a bag of something called Bertie's Bots Every Flavor Beans. Ron warned her that they really did mean every flavor. They had good ones like chocolate, peppermint and marmalade, but there were also gross ones like spinach, liver, tripe and possibly even boogers. Ron nibbled tentatively at one, and disgustedly pronounced it sprouts. Chrys pushed the bag over to Harry choosing to go back to her sketches instead. She was having trouble drawing the scenery as it blurred from the speed. As far as she could tell they went through a forest, following the curves of a river, between large grassy hills.

Meanwhile the boys were having a fun time challenging each other to eat different flavored beans.

"I'm telling you Harry, I'm not going anywhere near that funny grey one," Ron argued.

"I'll take the chance. How do you know unless you've tried?" He took a teeny bite and chewed slowly.

"Well?" Ron asked, studying his face.

"Pepper." Harry coughed.

"Ah, well could've been worse."

"Chrys why don't you try one?" Harry urged her, bumping her shoulder with his.

"Not a chance," Chrys answered, relieved when distraction came in the form of a knock on the door.

An anxious boy entered the compartment. Chrys remembered him as Neville, whose toad was lost. Sure enough, he asked them if they'd seen his pet. Ron, Harry and Chrys shook their heads. Neville squeezed his eyes shut, looking about ready to cry.

Harry tried to reassure him that his toad would be found. Neville just sighed and trudged away.

Ron said perhaps it was a blessing in disguise. Toads weren't the most popular of creatures…though Scabbers wasn't much better. Chrys could swear that the rat had started to snore. Ron added that he'd tried a spell to turn Scabbers yellow, as a bit of an improvement, but obviously it hadn't worked. He offered to show them.

"Give it another go then," Harry agreed excitedly. Chrys created a drum roll with two sticks of licorice. Ron took out his wand, embarrassed by the shabbiness, but the twins smiled encouragingly, so he cleared his throat and held it up…

Neville interrupted them again, though this time he was being dragged over by a determined girl with bushy hair. Chrys sympathized. Potter hair always stuck out at different angles as if it were home to all the static in the world. The newcomer questioned if they'd seen Neville's toad. Ron said they'd all ready been asked. Neville smiled apologetically, trying to turn away. However, the girl had caught sight of Ron's wand and became just as enthusiastic as the twins. She sat down at Ron's side, staring analytically and telling him to continue. Ron looked bewildered by her upfront attitude. Still he said out the spell (which sounded like a children's rhyme to Chrys) and waved his wand over his rat.

Nothing happened.

The girl stipulated that it probably wasn't a real spell, or at least, not a very good one. Chrys wasn't sure whether to defend Ron or agree with the unknown girl. Though the girl was not done speaking yet. She continued on about the extensive studying she had done because she was muggleborn and she was so very pleased to be accepted to into Hogwarts, which was supposedly the best in magical education. She rounded off with introducing herself as Hermione Granger and asking who they were. Chrys was impressed that she'd said this without stopping for a breath. Harry and Ron looked a bit dazed.

"…Hermione, that's from _A Winter's Tale_, right?" Chrys asked, trying to turn the monologue into something more balanced.

"Yes, that's my mother's favorite play," Hermione said, sounding delighted Chrys had recognized it. "Do you read much Shakespeare?" Ron shot Harry a confused looked. Harry mouthed 'tell you later' to him.

"Not really," Chrys shook her head. "Only _A Winter's Tale_ and _The Tempest_. I mostly get books from the library, but Shakespeare's too difficult to read when I'm not allowed to check anything out…" Hermione beamed at the word 'library' though she looked aghast at Chrys' punishment.

"Well I brought a couple with me, so you could borrow them if you like," Hermione said, suddenly becoming shy.

"That would be nice," Chrys said, somewhat surprised at how easy it was to talk to this girl. Harry nudged her. Chrys gave him a questioning glance. Harry gestured at Ron who was starting to get grumpy again. Realizing she had been leaving the boys out, she smiled and said. "Nice to meet you, I'm Chrys Potter, this is my brother Harry and that's Ron Weasley."

"Hello," Ron grunted. Harry gave a little wave. Hermione's eyes brightened and she launched into a list of all the books she'd read that mentioned the famous Potter twins.

"There are books written about us?" Chrys asked in shock. Harry looked equally shaken. Hermione commented that she would've wanted to know all about it if it were her. Chrys frowned, and Hermione switched onto the topic of school houses. Hermione thought Gryffindor sounded the best, as it was the house Professor Dumbledore had been in—though she wouldn't mind Ravenclaw either…Her eyes fell on the chocolate frog Ron was unwrapping and she suddenly remembered she was supposed to be looking for Neville's toad. She grabbed poor boy and pulled him away, calling over her shoulder that it was about time to get changed into robes.

"Shakespeare is famous a muggle author," Harry explained.

"Playwright," Chrys corrected, snatching Ron's chocolate toad and munching on it.

"Whatever." Ron shrugged, adding that he hoped Hermione wasn't in the same house as him. Harry asked what house the other Weasleys were in. Ron replied that they were all in Gryffindor, though he agreed with Hermione, that Ravenclaw was also a fair house. Anyway, anything was better than Slytherin in his opinion. Harry was inclined to agree, remembering what Hagrid had said about Voldemort being in that house. Ron twitched, so Harry changed the conversation, wondering what Ron's other brothers did now that they were out of school. Ron slumped into his seat, saying that the eldest two, Charlie and Bill, were working with dragons and for Gringotts respectfully. Then he got a thoughtful look on his face. He asked if they'd heard about the attempted robbery at Gringotts the other day. Harry and Chrys shook their heads in confusion. Hagrid had seemed so sure it was a safe place. Ron went on to explain that nothing had been stolen actually, which was why the break in was getting so much attention, especially as there were signs of dark magic having had been used. Some people were even saying it could have been You-Know-Who. Chrys gripped her chocolate frog so tightly its eyes bulged out.

Ron coughed and decided to talk about Quidditch instead. He seemed to think it a huge shame that they'd knew next to nothing about the game, and took it upon himself to rectify that. "So there are seven players, one keeper, three chasers, two beaters and a seeker. My favorite is the keeper, because if he's really good the other team can barely get a shot in, and the point differential is _just_ right. I went to this one game with my brothers where the keeper blocked the middle hoop and then smacked the quaffle all the way into the opposing team's right hoop. That was a tricky shot I tell you…."

Chrys thought that Ron prattling on about Quidditch sounded an awful lot like Hermione rambling about studying. She tuned him out, stretching her legs and reading through some of the chocolate frog cards instead. The Circe card was particularly engrossing. Chrys was extra happy to find out that there was some truth to some of the myths she enjoyed learning about.

Then the door slid open with a sharp thud, jarring her out of her thoughts.

Ron was cut off mid-sentence.

Three boys entered confidently as if they owned the place.

Harry and Chrys exchanged a look, recognizing the smaller one in the middle. It was the snooty blonde kid from Madam Malkin's.

Blondie looked back and forth between Harry and Chrys, a calculative smile slipping onto his lips. He said he'd heard the Potter twins were in this part of the train—was it them?

"Yes," Harry and Chrys answered reluctantly. Harry sized up the two bulky boys who stood on either side of him. Chrys tried not to be judgmental, but their build was the same as Dudley's violence loving friends.

The blonde followed their eyes, explaining that the two large boys were called Crabbe and Goyle. _His_ name was Draco Malfoy.

Ron accidentally drew attention to himself by trying to hide his snicker.

Malfoy stood immaculately straight, as if his spine was pulled upward by a wire. He felt insulted by Ron, and decided to not so subtly return the favor. Ron flushed an angry pink. Malfoy went on to say that Harry and Chrys should realize that certain wizards were better than others. They should watch out what sort of people they were making friends with.

He held out his hand for them to shake.

The twins stood, glaring. Harry told him that they could choose the right sort of friends on their own. Malfoy blushed just the slightest amount.

He examined his nails, mentioning the twins might want to be better-manned, least they end up the same way as their parents.

"I'll teach _you_ some manners!" Chrys growled, trying to lunge at him. Malfoy blinked and took a step away, but snorted when Harry held her back. Malfoy continued, saying that hanging out with scum like Hagrid and the Weasleys would rub off on them.

Ron stood up as well, daring Malfoy to repeat himself.

Malfoy smirked, clearly thinking they weren't much of a threat. Harry backed Ron up, telling Malfoy to leave them alone, though he glanced warily at Crabbe and Goyle who towered over the rest of them.

Malfoy refused to leave, deciding to steal the rest of Harry's snacks instead. Goyle moved towards the food. Ron tried to intercept him, but there was no need. Scabbers suddenly chomped down on the bully's hand. Goyle screamed, falling backwards. Malfoy and Crabbe scampered away as Goyle danced around the room, trying to get rid of Scabbers. Eventually Scabbers was flung off, slapping against the window and Goyle raced after his friends, knocking down the rest of the snacks in his haste.

Chrys peeled Scabbers off the window and silently handed him to Ron.

Of course, that was the exact moment Hermione Granger returned.

She looked at the chaos in the room and asked what was going on.

"Hello Hermione," Chrys said, wondering how to explain.

Ron simply ignored her, lamenting that Scabbers may have been knocked out. Then, somewhat disbelievingly, he realized that Scabbers had only returned to his peaceful slumber. Reassured of his rat's health he asked the twins if they'd met Malfoy before.

"We were in Diagon Alley," Chrys started.

"In Madam Malkin's, and he was getting his robes fitted at the same time as me. He said some rude things," Harry continued.

"And he had an awful sneer so I stuck my tongue out at him," Chrys finished. Ron nodded approvingly, explaining that the Malfoy's father had been a supporter of You-Know-Who. Mr. Malfoy claimed he'd been cursed, but Ron's dad didn't believe that for a second. The Malfoys were definitely the sort to follow willingly. Hermione cleared her throat, not taking kindly to being forgotten. Ron rolled his eyes and asked what she wanted.

Hermione reminded them to get their robes on, telling them the conductor mentioned they were almost at Hogwarts. Also she reprimanded them for fighting.

Ron corrected her, saying it was Scabbers who had been fighting, and anyway, she should leave if she wanted them to change.

Hermione huffed, saying she'd only wanted to know why people were running out of their compartment. She pointedly added that Ron had dirt on his nose, and then stomped out of the room.

"What's her problem?" Ron said, annoyed.

"I think she only wanted to help," Chrys replied, a bit worried that they'd hurt her feelings. "You could be a nicer," she added.

"I'll be nice when she stops being irritating," Ron argued. Chrys looked at Harry for support. Harry raised his hands, silently saying he was going to keep out of this. Chrys frowned, rummaging through her bag, pulling out her robes and flinging the door open.

"I'm going to change and look for Hermione," she told Harry.

"Er, okay…come back quickly," he said quietly, watching her leave.

Unfortunately the train was large enough that Chrys got lost almost immediately. The conductor's voice projected through the halls, announcing that they would arrive at Hogwarts shortly, and not to worry about their luggage. Chrys frowned. There was no sight of Hermione, or the girls' bathroom anywhere. Finally she (literally) ran into a set of Indian twins.

"Sorry about that," Chrys apologized.

"It's fine." One of the twins shrugged.

"Are you looking for the bathroom?" The other wondered, noticing Chrys was carrying her robes. "It's just through that door."

"Thank you." Chrys rushed inside, nearly knocking into yet another girl.

"Watch where you're going… please."

"Yeah, I will," Chrys said tiredly.

The girl huffed and went on brushing her hair.

Chrys struggled with her robes, getting tangled up in the sleeves.

"Need some help?" The girl in the bathroom asked, finally tucking her brush into a little purse.

"Yeah thanks a ton, that'd be great," Chrys said honestly.

"I'm Lavender Brown," the girl introduced herself, as she straightened Chrys out.

"Chrys Potter," Chrys returned. Lavender stopped suddenly.

"Chrysanthemum Potter, are you really?" She gaped. Chrys nodded and sighed. "Wow… I guess that's why you didn't know how to put on robes, because you've been raised by muggles?" Chrys nodded again, wondering exactly how much of her past was open to the public. Lavender looked like she had more questions, but the Indian twins peeked into the bathroom, their braids swinging identically.

"Hey Lav, what's taking you so long?" One asked.

"Probably her hair," the other answered, laughing.

Lavender rolled her eyes. "No Padma, I was just helping out Chrys Potter."

"Oh…I suspected you might be a Potter twin." The sisters stepped inside. "I'm Padma Patil."

"And I'm Pavarti." She smiled brightly. "It's nice to see Lavender's made a new friend." Chrys blinked in surprise. Had she really made a friend so easily?

"Her scatterbrained facade normally scares people away," Padma said bluntly.

"Padma!" Lavender and Pavarti chided in unison. Chrys laughed loudly. The other three blinked in surprise, and they all smiled at each other.

The train slowed and came to a halt. Chrys' eyes widened.

"Uh-oh, I've got to get back to Harry."

"Harry Potter? Ooh, what does he look like? Is he attractive?" Lavender clasped her hands together.

"Well he's my brother so…"

Pavarti and Lavender giggled. "It'll be easier to met up with him outside the train," Padma suggested, rolling her eyes. "Otherwise it will be difficult to navigate through the crowd."

The four girls left together, and Chrys immediately understood what Padma meant. They barely had to move because the people around them were pushing and shoving them forward. Students poured out of the train like a mass of busy ants.

Chrys grew more and more nervous as they shuffled along a dirt path. She relaxed slightly when she spotted Hagrid's large form at the head of the group. He held a bright lantern in his hands, casting light onto a familiar tall ginger. Chrys figured that Harry was next to Ron, only he was too short to be seen through the crowd. She stood on tip-toe but still couldn't catch sight of him. She waved her arms and shouted, trying to get Ron or Hagrid's attention. A few first years glanced nervously at her. Lavender took a step away, looking embarrassed. So much for being friends.

Chrys shouted a bit louder, and was rewarded with a wave from Hagrid. He announced that they would stop for their first sight of Hogwarts, just through these trees.

It was nighttime by now, and as they came into the clearing Chrys saw the stars reflecting glitteringly on a large black lake. It was as if they sky had come down and spread itself in front of them. Pavarti smiled in appreciation.

Beyond the lake sat an elaborate castle that stretched out along the hills, a remnant of ancient days. The first years gasped at the beautiful sight, nudging each other and leaning around to get a better look. There was a line of boats set up along the shore. Hagrid told them to get in (four people per boat) so they could be on their way.

As the crowd finally dispersed, Chrys was able to make her way through to Ron. Harry was standing next to him, in front of a boat, which Neville and Hermione were all ready sitting in.

"Chrys…" Harry said in exasperation as she rushed up and hugged him.

"Sorry for worrying you," she said genuinely. "I got a bit turned around."

"He would've moved against the crowd and gotten himself trampled, but Hagrid mentioned you were alright," Ron informed her, sounding amused.

"Just be more careful next time," Harry told her.

"Yeah, because you're _so cautious_," she said laughing. Harry continued to stare at her so she waved her hand in agreement. "Fine, fine…just get in the boat."

"Right," Harry climbed in and looked up at her expectantly, but Hermione studiously reminded them,

"Only four people per boat."

Ron glared, and both Harry and Neville made to get out of the boat. "Um, I can move if you want to sit with your brother…" Neville said hesitantly. Chrys shook her head.

"Thanks Neville, but there's no need. Harry, I'll just go in that boat over there," she said, motioning to where Pavarti, Padma and Lavender were watching her curiously. "And see you on the other side, 'kay?" Harry agreed rather reluctantly.

"He's a bit skinny," Lavender decided, as Chrys sat next to her.

Hagrid gave a loud shout of 'forward!' and the boats started floating towards the castle.

"Sorry?" Chrys said, confused.

"Your brother," Lavender explained. "He's not bad looking I guess, but he's a bit scrawny and his hair is a complete disaster." She paused. "Well, so is yours though."

"We are twins," Chrys reminded her. "We look alike whether or not it's a good thing."

Pavarti and Padma nodded in sympathy.

Hagrid spoke at that moment, telling them all to get their heads down. The girls ducked just in time, as the boats slid past an outcropping of rock, and through some dangling ivy. Chrys heard Lavender gasp as it suddenly went pitch dark… they were going though a tunnel underneath the castle.

"It's all right," Pavarti said soothingly, as they came out into the open again. Lavender nodded, smoothing out her robes.

The boats docked and everyone clambered out onto the rocky shore. Chrys waved goodbye to the girls and ran along to meet Harry.

"See Harry, I managed," she told him proudly. He looked her over, as if he expecting her to be injured in some way. Hagrid came up behind them and passed a grateful Neville his toad.

"Again?" Ron shook his head in disbelief. Neville rubbed his neck sheepishly. Chrys pulled on Hagrid's coat.

"Chrys, nice to see ya'," Hagrid said, giving her a hug that almost knocked the wind out of her.

Then he moved to the front of the group and led them through a second, drier, tunnel. Harry kept his hand on Chrys shoulder the whole time, perhaps worried that they would get separated again.

They came out onto a wide grassy field, just in front of the castle. Hagrid checked one last time to make sure everyone (including Neville's toad) was accounted for, and then moved up the stone staircase, knocking thrice on the heavy looking door.

* * *

**Yo.**

**Thank you for reading (and reviewing?). Love the response I have been getting. A couple of questions for you awesome people:**

**Do you think it's realistic/ possible for Hermione and Chrys to have read Shakespeare? I mean if they're intelligent and willing...eh...dunno, I just thought it was a nice idea. Say otherwise if you think so.**

**Also, are the descriptive bits getting boring at all? I just really don't want to use J.K's exact wording for anything.**

**Lastly, what do you think about the characterizations so far? Like for Pavarti, Padma and Lavender especially, since they're new so to speak.**

**See you next chapter, for Hogwarts and sorting.**

**AoiKuroNekoSan**


	7. Of Heads and Hearts

**Aw, no reviews from the last chapter :(**

**But the show must go on.**

**And I do not own the _Harry Potter _series.**

* * *

The Potter Twins and the Sorcerer's Stone:

**Chapter Six: **Of Heads and Hearts

The door opened a smidge, and out came a women draped in green.

Hagrid addressed her as Professor McGonagall. Chrys remembered that this was the deputy Headmistress, the author of that final Hogwarts letter. Professor McGonagall was obviously tall, but the intensity of her gaze as she studied them made Chrys feel even smaller. Professor McGonagall thanked Hagrid.

The first years followed her quietly into the entrance hall.

"She's not one to be crossed," Harry whispered to Chrys. Harry was usually a pretty good judge of character, so Chrys stood a straighter and tried to look as innocent as possible. She was immediately distracted by the grandness of the castle. "You could fit all of Number 4 in here," Harry observed.

"That and more," Chrys agreed. The room was stone and marble, lit by torches, with ceilings higher than the eye could see. The overall look was similar to Gringotts, except the castle light was warm, bright, and welcoming. Professor McGonagall continued across the room, past a set of double doors, with voices buzzing behind it, into smaller chamber down the hall. The students filled in, huddling like penguins, heads jerking around anxiously.

Professor McGonagall greeted them, saying that the start of the year feast was nearly in session, but first they must be sorted into their houses. The Sorting Ceremony was very important, because their houses would be like their family, whom they would room with, eat with, and share a common room with. She listed off the four houses, each of which had a noble past and many accomplished graduates. During the year the students would earn points for their house, in an attempt to win the house cup. She hoped they would each make fine contributions to whatever house they joined.

They would wait here for a few minutes, as she prepared the people in the Great Hall to watch them get sorted. She suggested they straighten themselves up before she returned, giving Ron and Neville a pointed look.

She excited the room, leaving the students to chatter nervously.

"Why was she looking at me? What's wrong?" Neville worried. Hermione sighed.

"You're cloak is caught on your ear…here, let me help you." She reached over and fiddled with his cloak while Harry attempted to smooth down his hair.

"Not going to happen Harry. Did you forget the cardinal Potter rule? Our hair does not lie flat," Chrys reminded him. "Also, Ron, I hate to be the one to tell you this…but you _still_ have dirt on your nose." Ron groaned and half-heartedly rubbed his nose. Harry gulped, asking Ron what they had to do to get sorted. Ron scratched his head, saying Fred mentioned it was something painful, but he was probably joking. "Probably," Chrys echoed hopefully. Harry unconsciously ran his hands through his hair, making it stick up more than ever.

"I don't know any magic yet," he muttered to himself. "I'm going to make a fool of myself." Chrys mind was racing. "You might not be the only one," she told him, looking around, most of the students were just as freaked out. After Hermione fixed Neville's cloak she started to whisper spells under her breath. Chrys made the mistake of asking her what she thought they would have to do.

"There are many spells classified as year one spells, and presumably we could be requested to perform any one of those. Though of course in practice spells are chosen to fit the situation. They could also be looking for the ability to correctly select a relevant spell…"

Chrys decided that ramblings, no matter how logical, were not helpful for calming nerves. "We've done a little magic before," she reminded Harry. He blinked confusedly at her. "I mean, like the stuff Hagrid was talking about…like that time when the teacher was ranting about my hair being too messy and you turned her wig blue, starling her and outing her jealous baldness."

"…I don't think that'd help in this case," Harry replied, though the corners of his lips were twitching. "Hang on, what's that!" Harry jumped, gesturing above them.

A few of the kids yelled. Chrys couldn't blame them, because a large number of translucent white figures had just glided through the wall. "Ghosts…" Hermione announced in a hushed tone. The spirits were so absorbed in their argument about someone named Peeves that they didn't even notice the startled students. When an Elizabethan ghost finally saw them, he was confused about why they were there. A chubby monk ghost realized they must be about to be sorted. He cheerfully hopped they'd been in Hufflepuff, which had apparently been his house back in the day.

At that moment Professor McGonagall came back and shooed the ghosts away, telling the first years to follow her.

They did, lining up and proceeding into the Great Hall. "My legs are like led," Harry whispered.

"Just focus on putting one foot in front of the other," Chrys suggested. Rather than stiff, she was feeling jittery, and sugar high. Her fingers drummed anxiously on her sides. She took a deep breath and took in the lay of the room.

They weaved their way past four lengthy tables where the students and ghosts were seated, underneath a blanket of floating candles, and towards a fifth table, risen above the rest. There sat the professors. In the middle was Professor Dumbledore, long beard and twinkly-eyed just like in his chocolate frog card picture. Hagrid, who was sitting to the far left, spotted the twins and waved his giant hand, smiling equally largely. Chrys felt a little braver. She stood, single file in the middle of the rest of the first years. Harry stepped lightly on her foot, pointing up at the ceiling. Chrys did a double take, having to reassure herself that bright stars and milky clouds were probably some sort of magic, though they looked so much like the real thing.

"That's amazing," she mumbled. Hermione, quietly responded that the ceiling was magicked to mimic the sky at all moments. Real or not it was astounding now the starlight glint off the golden plates and goblets on the tables. Though the older students appeared used to it all. Instead they focused intently on the shivering first years.

The gaze of the student body shifted, following Professor McGonagall's progress onto the podium as she placed an old hat on top of a rickety stool.

"Maybe we have to pull a rabbit out of it," Harry said out of nowhere. Chrys was unsure whether or not he was joking.

"Don't be ridiculous!" Hermione hissed, though she also looked uncertain.

The room was overly still and silent. Chrys was fidgeted uncomfortably, trying to resist the urge to shout out random nonsense.

Then someone—or rather some _thing_ broke the tension.

A clear voice rang out across the hall, projecting a song from a tear in the old hat's fast moving brim.

It sang about each of the houses, how Gryffindors were brave, daring and chivalrous, Hufflepuffs were just, loyal, patient, and hardworking, Ravenclaws were clever, and eager to learn, and lastly Slytherins were cunning and ambitious. The hat's wittily reassuring finish was met by thunderous clapping from all ends.

Ron complained that Fred told him they'd have to wrestle a troll. Harry smiled…but somewhat warily. "What's wrong?" Chrys asked.

"What if I don't fit in any of the houses?" Harry whispered as the applause died down. Chrys patted him on the shoulder, trying to silently communicate that he was being dramatically pessimistic again.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, and took out an attendance sheet, telling them to sit on the stool and put on the hat when their name was called.

Hannah Abbott was the first name. The girl was quickly and enthusiastically welcomed into Hufflepuff. Chrys tried to pay attention to the people being sorted, but she was rather distracted by the dejected look on her brother's face. He looked exactly how he always looked when they were picked last for school sports teams. Even though Harry was decent at sports, no one wanted to choose him because if they were caught being nice to the twins, Dudley would punch them in the face. Chrys tried to think positively. She tried to convince herself that this school would be different. Still, what if magic did not yield a magical solution? What if she and Harry were treated the same as always? She was so tired of being ignored…

Chrys shook her head hard. Harry's attitude had started to rub off on her. She came back in focus just in time to see Hermione sorted into Gryffindor. Chrys cheered a bit, glad the girl got what she wanted. Ron grumbled darkly. Chrys pulled some funny faces, hoping to annoy Ron and cheer Harry up with one go. Ron laughed, but Harry was too absorbed in his thoughts to notice. Chrys looked up when she heard Neville's name called.

Neville was so nervous that he tripped and knocked over the stool. He took a while for him to put it upright, get the hat on and finally be sorted. As soon as the hat announced, "Gryffindor!" Neville rushed down to sit with the others, forgetting to take off the hat in his excitement. He quickly brought it back, blushing bright red. Chrys took a deep breath, hoping she could do better than that at least.

Malfoy oozed over-confidence as he walked up and put the hat on. He smirked obviously when the hat took a split second to place him in Slytherin.

Chrys took comfort in the fact that most people seemed to be getting into the house that they wanted. Ron wanted to be in Gryffindor, so Harry would probably aim for that as well. The next few names flew by, Chrys noting with surprise that the Patil twins were sorted into different houses. She crossed her fingers, wishing hard that she and Harry would stick together.

She did not have much time to wish however—as her turn was next. The crowd gurgled with excitement, wondering where the famous Potter girl would be sorted. Chrys gulped and forced herself to walk forward at a leisurely pace so she wouldn't trip like Neville had. She heard someone complain that she was moving to slowly, so she clenched her jaw, and sat down, snatching up the hat and pulling it over her ears.

As soon as it touched her head, it began speaking silently into her mind.

"_How interesting… you are steadfast and fierce with your way of thinking, which can set you apart from others, but you don't mind because you believe you can be better than the rest! You know, Slytherin could give you the power to assert your authority."_

"_Thanks, but no thanks," _Chrys thought, grumpily. _"I admit I'm stubborn, but at the moment I'll use every ounce of that stubbornness to go for Gryffindor. I'm sure that's house Harry will get into, and no matter what, I will not be separated from him."_ She could have sworn she heard the stupid hat chuckle.

"Gryffindor!" Came the shouted word.

Chrys let out a sigh proportionate to someone Hagrid's size. She tried to catch Harry's eye as she ran over to sit next to a smiling Hermione. The rest of her new housemates seemed equally ecstatic at her arrival. Pavarti waved from across the table, while Percy stood up and bowed awkwardly. Fred and George winked, giving her identical thumbs up. She responded in kind and went back to staring at Harry. It felt like forever before he was sorted. For a terrified moment, Chrys thought she'd guessed wrong and that infuriating hat would place him somewhere else.

Then she joined the rest of the crowd's shouts of glee as he wobbled over in exhaustion, and sat at her side. Percy stood up again and shook his hand, while the Weasley twins cheered. "We've got the Potter twins! We've got the Potters!"

Harry shivered as the Elizabethan ghost floating nearby, waved a friendly hand right through him. Hermione shushed him as she turned back to watch the sorting.

"Here's hoping," Harry said, crossing his fingers a few minutes later when it was Ron's turn.

"Poor boy looks ill…" Chrys commented.

He had no reason to be. Ron joined them shortly. Harry clapped so hard that his hands turned pink. Ron beamed and sat at his other side. Chrys and Percy congratulated him while the twins shrugged as if they'd been expecting it all along.

Soon after, the sorting ended and Professor McGonagall cleared the area.

"For some reason I'm starving again," Harry said wonderingly.

"Me too," Ron seconded enthusiastically.

"It's because you're not scared anymore," Chrys said knowingly, as her stomach roared for attention.

Professor Dumbledore stood up, and welcomed them with the oddest assortment of words. People clapped appreciatively as Chrys scratched her head in confusion. Then Harry pulled on her sleeve and gestured at the table.

"Wow," they said in unison. The spread of food that appeared in front of them was vast, diverse, and mouth watering. Percy scooped steaming hot potatoes onto Ron, Chrys and Harry's plates. Chrys smiled brightly at him, not used to someone giving her such a big helping. Harry piled a bit of everything on top of his potatoes.

"You've missed the peppermint humbugs," Chrys informed him.

"On purpose," Harry replied. "It's nice to take as much as I like, but also nice to be able to refuse something I don't like."

"Point taken." Chrys nodded.

"Iwll ake um," Ron said through a mouth full of pudding. Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"What?" Chrys said.

"I think he said, 'I'll take some," Harry translated. She passed them over and loaded her plate up with a second portion of chicken. "It's all so good," Harry said after a while.

The Elizabethan outfitted ghost sadly agreed that the food did look very good. His head flopped around as he leaned forward. Harry paused for a moment, and dove into a conversation with the ghost. Chrys stabbed at her stake in frustration, unable to make a dent.

"Hermione? Could you help me with this?" she asked hopefully.

"Oh, certainly," Hermione said, reaching over and cutting it into bite size pieces.

"Thank you." Chrys chewed appreciatively as she turned back to catch the end of Harry's conversation. The ghost was affronted at the nickname, Nearly Headless Nick, much preferring to be called by his full name of Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington.

A sandy-haired boy chimed in, asking how on earth someone could be _nearly_ headless. Chrys had been wondering much of the same.

Sir Nicolas sighed and promptly ripped his head as casually as one might tip a hat. Everyone shut up at that. Hermione looked exactly how Chrys felt—both queasy and intrigued at the same time. Sir Nick took the silence as an opportunity to tell them he hoped they would earn the house cup for Gryffindor this year. He was tired of the Slytherin ghost, the Bloody Baron, gloating about the trophy. Several of the students turned around to look at the Slytherin table. The Bloody Baron was aptly named. Harry nudged Chrys, and pointed to the Malfoy boy was sitting next to his house ghost. Chrys laughed. For the first time since she'd met him, the holier-than-thou look was wiped off of Malfoy's face. The sandy-haired boy, who was proving to be just as curious as Harry, asked Sir Nick how the Bloody Baron died. Sir Nick implied that it would have been rude to ask. Chrys noticed the violent deaths appeared to be a reoccurring theme amongst the ghosts…she hoped she'd never join them.

"Well I, for once, am stuffed…" Chrys announced, some time later. She gasped happily as the remains disappeared from the plates, leaving them shinny clean. "They appear to be made of solid gold…Want to sneak one up to your dorm?" She teased Harry. He rolled his eyes good-naturedly. Hermione opened her mouth to protest. "Just a joke Hermione," Chrys explained hurriedly. The dessert appeared next, with just as wide a variety as the meal. Chrys sampled the entire line up, unable to decide what she liked the best.

Her favorite moment however, was the dazzling look on Harry's face when he tried the treacle tart.

"Terrific! I've always wanted to try this," he said, full of childish excitement. Chrys felt all warm and fuzzy inside.

"You've never had treacle tart before?" Ron asked in surprise. Harry shook his head.

"Our aunt and uncle are sort of… er, strict about desserts…I guess…" Harry said awkwardly, rubbing his neck. Chrys frowned, that was putting it lightly in her opinion. Ron grew quiet, studying Harry pensively. Then he reached over and spooned a huge second serving onto Harry's plate.

"Okay then, have as much as you like," he said easily. Chrys leaned across Harry and gave Ron an awkward one-armed hug. Harry and Ron stared at her.

"What?" She said, daring them to comment.

"Girls are mental…" She heard Ron mutter under his breath.

Meanwhile, the talkative sandy haired boy was chatting about his family. Apparently his mum was a witch, but she hadn't told her muggle husband until after they were married. Several people laughed, but Hermione scowled.

"That could've ended badly," she pointed out, before leaning over to ask Percy a question. Chrys thought she had a point. Ron asked Neville, who was looking a little left out, about his family. Neville said he grew up with his gran who was a witch, but the entire family thought he was non-magical for ages, because he never showed any sign otherwise. His family did all sort of mean things (like nearly drowning him and throwing him out a window) to try to encourage a magical reaction. Eventually it worked and his uncle bought him a congratulatory toad.

"Now that definitely could have ended badly," Chrys said to herself. Neville could have been seriously hurt. Maybe the conversation to her left would be less frustrating. Percy was amicably telling Hermione about Transfiguration.

"Doesn't it sound fascinating Chrysanthemum?" Hermione asked, when she noticed Chrys was listening.

"Please, it's Chrys," Chrys corrected her. "And yeah, I guess Transfiguration should be interesting. Though the course book said that a lot of concentration is necessary… and I'm easily distracted, so it might be difficult…"

"The more work you put in, the better it reflects on your grades," Percy promised her. Chrys frowned, it wasn't the grades she was worried about…she was more concerned that her general ability to perform magic might be spotty at best.

"Ooh, we can study together!" Hermione squealed.

"Ah. Alright then," Chrys said. Though she enjoyed reading, and learning random factoids, she'd never taken school very seriously. Because Aunt Petunia got angry when she got higher marks than Dudley, Chrys generally ended up at the bottom of her class. Harry yawned and started to droop onto her shoulder. Chrys tried to keep him awake by pointing out interesting things. "Look, I think Hagrid's getting drunk again," she said. "And I know I'm not the most fashionable person, but what made Professor Quirrell decide to wear that turban, I'll never know. It looks really—ow!" A sharp pain rang through her head as she watched Professor Quirrell talk another teacher with a beak-like nose.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked concernedly. Chrys looked sideways and saw Harry was also clutching his head. Percy echoed Hermione's statement. Harry and Chrys exchanged a quick glance.

"Nothing," they said aloud. "We're fine."

"Just a bit of headache," Chrys lied. The pain had come quite suddenly when she and Harry were watching those teachers, and well, she had never been a firm believer of coincidence.

"It must have been all that sugar, you should really watch your intake," Hermione said, motioning at the sticky evidence on Chrys' plate.

"What are you, my doctor?" Chrys joked. Hermione blushed slightly.

"Oh…my parents are dentists, so I just automatically…" She trailed off.

"It's okay, could you please pass me the jug of water?" Chrys said, turning slightly, trying to listen to Harry and Percy's conversation. Percy was telling Harry that the beak nosed teacher was named Snape. Professor Snape taught potions, though apparently he had coveted the Defense Against the Dark Arts position, which he had a lot of knowledge for. Hermione poured some water into Chrys' goblet.

"Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm sure, thank you. Um, so…how do you plan on studying?" Chrys asked, hoping to distract her. It worked. While Hermione went into depth on study schedules, Chrys whispered secretly with Harry. "So one of the professors had some weird affect on our scars?"

"It's Snape," Harry said, sounding very certain. "I felt it right when our eyes met."

"He didn't look me in the eyes," Chrys pointed out.

"…Maybe you just felt it by association, you know, like a twin thing?"

"Hmm…could be…"

"I'm going to keep an eye on him, just in case it happens again." Harry turned and kept a careful gaze in that direction. "By the way, are you really going to do that much studying?" He added, as Hermione continued.

"I hope not," Chrys mumbled, nodding to make it look like she was listening.

After dessert Harry's vigil was interrupted, as instead he politely watched Dumbledore make another speech. Hermione hushed up immediately and Chrys sighed in relief. That girl had a set of lungs on her.

Dumbledore cheerfully warned them that nearby forest was out of bounds (the Weasley twins got a special glance of amusement). Also, Mr. Flich, the caretaker, wanted everyone to remember that magic was not to be used in the corridors. Quidditch trials were to be held two weeks into term, so people should see Madam Hooch if they were interested in playing for their house team. Chrys shook her head, but Harry's spine straightened in interest. Lastly, _"I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."_

Harry laughed, but most people were whispering worriedly. Harry blinked, asking Percy if Dumbledore had been serious. Percy said he had to be, though there was a lack of explanation, even for the all mighty prefects. Chrys shook her head, but agreed that Dumbledore could've been more specific. At any rate, Dumbledore said that it was time for the school song. He raised his wand and out sprung a golden ribbon that spelled the lyrics into the air.

The whole school started singing at different tempos. The song was obvious silliness, though equally spirited. Professor McGonagall froze tight-lipped, but most people appeared to be having fun. Chrys didn't sing (neither of the twins could carry a tune to save their lives), but she did sway enthusiastically, and Hermione looked as if she was fighting a smile. Chrys laughed as the Weasley twins finished alone in a slow mournful tune, which Dumbledore seemed to enjoy very much.  
Chrys thought the headmaster couldn't be that bad if he got so emotional over his pupils' singing. He sniffled, rubbed his eyes and sent them off to bed.

The first year Gryffindors followed Percy through the Great Hall, up the marble staircase in the entrance hall. Harry was sleepily leaning on Chrys, who was wide eyed in excitement at the moving staircases, the moving, talking portraits, and the shortcuts Percy took behind tapestries and secret panels. Most of the first years were yawning, walking slowly and asking, "Are we there yet?"

Percy stopped abruptly. Harry perked up, thinking they had at last reached their destination, but Chrys shook her head and pointed towards the ceiling. A bunch of walking sticks were floating above them in mid-air. Percy took a step forward, and got wildly attacked. Some of the first years looked panicked. Percy explained that this was being done by Peeves the poltergeist. He commanded the creature to show itself. Nothing happened. Percy threatened to call the Bloody Baron over. Now Peeves came into sight. The poltergeist decidedly more solid looking than the ghosts, and furthermore had blue skin. His expression was wily and his tongue was loud and noisy. He flew directly at them, cackling madly. Harry (suddenly alert), jerked Ron and Chrys out of harm's way. Percy threatened Peeves with the Baron again, and so the poltergeist disappeared into the distance (not before depositing the rest of the walking sticks on top of Neville's head).

"Poor bloke has the worst luck," Ron sighed. Harry and Chrys nodded in agreement.

Percy told them to watch out for Peeves, who was a pest that not even the prefects could control. The Baron was the only thing that scared him.

Down the hall they reached a portrait of a rather large woman wearing a dress that was Aunt Petunia's favorite shade of pink. She asked for the password and Percy gave it to her. The portrait swung out of the way to reveal an opening in the wall.

"It's like a hobbit hole," Chrys declared through a yawn. Hermione made a noise of recognition. Ron shook his head in confusion, before turning to help Harry pull Neville across the threshold. "This is the Gryffindor common room," Percy told them unnecessarily. There was a warm fire crackling in the hearth, and many comfy armchairs situated around it. "The girls' rooms are through that door, up the stairs on the left, and the boys' are through the door, up the stairs on the right."

"I think I'll go straight to bed, you?" Harry asked, rubbing his eyes.

"Yeah, goodnight Harry, Ron, I'll see you in the morning." She gave her brother a kiss on the cheek (he made a face and wiped it off).

"Night," Ron snorted in amusement.

Chrys followed, Hermione, Pavarti, and Lavender up the stairs to their new dorm. It was a nice room with four large beds dressed in red.

"Oh, I call this one!" Lavender cried, rushing over to her preferred spot. "Come on Pavarti, get the one next to me!"

"Do you mind?" Pavarti politely asked the rest of them. Chrys and Hermione shook their heads and went over to the last two beds. Chrys pulled an ancient set of pajamas (that had probably been Dudley's at some point), out of her trunk and shoved the bulky old thing under her new bed. She wasn't too keen on organization at the moment. Hermione on the other hand, was carefully refolding all her clothes and placing them in her bedside bureau. Pavarti and Lavender were laying out their things, comparing styles and chatting noisily. Chrys tugged the strings on her elastic waistband as far as they would go, and went over to ask Hermione if she could borrow a book. Lavender looked up and gasped.

"Merlin's sake, what _are_ you wearing?" She asked. Pavarti glanced apologetically at Chrys, though she seemed surprised by the clothes as well.

"Um…pajamas…" Chrys answered, fiddling with a worn thread. Hermione frowned.

"You shouldn't insult her clothing," she told Lavender.

Chrys shrugged. She appreciated Hermione's defense, but, "To be honest, I insult my clothing all the time," she admitted. "But it's all I have so—"

Lavender interrupted with an odd sort of squeak. "Oh Chrysanthemum! Come here and I'll give you something to wear."

"Er, no thanks, I'm really—"

"_This_ would look lovely with your eyes, though it might be a bit too large, you are _so_ small, aren't you?"

Hermione and Chrys exchanged an exasperated look.

Still, Chrys knew the Lavender's gesture was heartfelt, if not somewhat blunt. So she accepted many items of clothing from the girls, including a blue nightie from Lavender, and a pair of red silk trousers from Pavarti. Hermione even handed over a t-shirt with a C.S Lewis quote about tea and books printed on the front.

Chrys snuggled into her new bed, feeling uniquely full, warm and welcome in her surroundings. The day had not been perfect, but overall it ended well. She fell asleep feeling equal measures of annoyance and appreciation. The odd mixed mood extended into her dreams, which were both vividly beautiful and excruciatingly painful. She imagined she was asked to come to the front of the class, and the professor set her on fire as an example. The flames were a gorgeous scarlet, and not hot, but merely warm like fresh spilled blood washing over her skin. Her body felt fine, except for the tug in her chest, as if she might cry, and the burning in her head as if she might die.

By morning she was still hot and disoriented, but she could not remember why. Whatever nightmares had plagued her, were flung into the recesses of her mind.

* * *

**And there goes another one. Hope Chrys' dream wasn't too weird. I didn't want her to have the same dream as Harry, but I wanted a similar sense of bizarre, nightmarish stuff that J.K manages to spin with her words.  
**

**I do hope you nice people will review this chapter. It motivates me more than you could imagine.**


	8. Of Friends and Lost Time

**Penguin Lord0029: as you wish, my lord**

**I'm feeling productive at the moment, which probably means I will crash shortly. Oh well, here's another chapter.**

**Btws, I don't own the _Harry Potter_ series.**

* * *

The Potter Twins and the Sorcerer's Stone:

**Chapter Seven: **Of Friends and Lost Time

* * *

Chrys woke to a gentle pressure nipping at her fingers.

It was Hedwig coming to say good morning. She cooed softly as Chrys scratched her behind the ears. Then she spread her wings and leapt out of the window.

Chrys smiled at the angelic white movement.

Might as well wake up now, she thought, as she stretched. She wiped the cold sweat off her sore forehead. She could probably use a shower.

She grabbed her robes and tiptoed to towards the unexplored door on the right.

She peaked inside and found exactly what she was looking for.

It was a large bathroom with several stalls for toilets and others for showers. Chrys washed off quickly, changed, and snuck dorm down into the common room.

She hadn't expected anyone else to be up yet, so she was surprised to see the Weasley twins and their friend Lee Jordan huddled around the fire.

Fred Weasley spotted her first, and nudged his twin's shoulder. George blinked and tucked a yellowed piece of parchment into his robes.

"Hello Chrysanthemum," the Weasley twins chorused.

Lee gave her a friendly wave. "Couldn't sleep?" He asked sympathetically.

"It's early for little midgets like you to be up and about," Fred commented.

Chrys shook a finger at him. "One day I will be taller," she promised.

The three boys chuckled. "Maybe someday," Fred started.

"But not today!" George finished. Chrys shrugged.

"I just thought I'd get some sketching in before morning classes, unless… am I interrupting something?"

"Not at all," Fred and George said quickly. Lee shook his head a little too aggressively. George patted his chest subconsciously.

"Uh-huh…" Chrys surveyed the Weasley twins' identical grins. She was generally suspicious of people who smiled like that. She shrugged again. "Well, I don't care what you lot are up to as long as it doesn't affect me," she muttered, and went to sit on the windowsill. She heard Lee sigh in relief.

About an hour later Hermione, Pavarti and Lavender filed down the stairs.

Hermione said, "Good morning Chrys."

"We wondered where you'd gotten off to," Pavarti said. "Lav and I were just going to meet Padma—want to come with us?"

Chrys was touched at the offer, but she shook her head. "No thanks, I'm going to wait for Harry and Ron."

"Suit yourself," Lavender said, waving as the two girls walked off arm in arm.

Hermione sighed. "I thought you might like to get an early start. I read that the castle can be tricky to navigate during first year, so I thought it would be prudent to find out where the classes are before I go to breakfast."

"Sounds like a good idea," Lee chimed in. "What do you have first period?"

"Transfiguration," Hermione answered, nearly glowing at the thought.

"Do you know where you're going?" Lee asked. Hermione hesitated. Lee turned to Fred and George. "Why don't we drop her off on our way down to the ki—" Fred stomped on Lee's foot, affectively shutting him up. Lee winced.

"Sure, sure," George said, putting his hands on Hermione's shoulder and beginning to steer her out of the room. "Oh and Chrys, if you're waiting for Ron you'll be here all day. He sleeps like a flobberworm…"

"…And snores like a troll," Fred added.

"I'll keep that in mind." Chrys nodded, though she had no idea what they were going on about.

She could hear Hermione ask, "Where are you going exactly?" as the four of them set off.

Pretty soon lots of students started coming down and to go to breakfast. Many of them paused to stare at Chrys before they left. She was just about to tell them off when Harry and Ron finally came racing down the stares.

"Morning," Harry greeted her as he straightened his tie.

"It's about time, I've already sketched three owls and a—"

"Come on then," Ron interrupted her. "We're almost late for breakfast."

"Gee, I wonder whose fault that is?" Chrys muttered, before following them out the room.

Breakfast was just as delicious and filling as dinner had been. Ron scarfed it down like a pig at a trough. Harry, on the other hand, shuffled things around his plate and sighed several times. He jumped in surprise when a shower of owls came down from the ceiling, carrying letters and newspapers in their beaks.

"It's just the post," Ron assured him. Hedwig didn't have any mail, but she came down anyway to nuzzle the twins affectionately.

"Oh what a pretty owl," Pavarti complimented her. Hedwig puffed up proudly. Chrys beamed.

Meanwhile Ron was trying to convince Harry to eat something. "You should fill up mate," he said firmly. "We've got a long day ahead of us."

"Yeah, I know." Harry sighed yet again.

"It's the staring, isn't it?" Chrys said knowingly. Harry nodded.

"I can't decide if this is more or less annoying than being ignored," he whispered, as Ron noisily gulped down his pumpkin juice.

Chrys scratched her nose. "I think it's better. The staring is a bit unnerving, but at least they're acknowledging our existence."

"I suppose so…" Harry poked at his egg, watching the center gush. Chrys bumped up against him playfully.

"Hey, cheer up brother, today is our first day of lessons—we get to learn how to do magic!"

Harry brightened a bit and munched steadily on some toast. "That's the spirit," Ron said encouragingly.

Once they were done, Chrys tried to follow Hermione to their first class. This proved difficult as Ron and Hermione could not spend a second together without scoffing and grumbling. Eventually Chrys let Hermione go on ahead, choosing to stay behind with Harry and Ron.

Ten minutes later, Chrys glared angrily at Ron. "If you were mature enough to walk next to Hermione, then we wouldn't have gotten so lost!" She growled.

"It's not my fault that she's so stuffy," Ron argued.

"You barely know her!"

"Oh, and you know her so well?"

"Come on guys," Harry said quickly. He raised an arm up between the two of them. "Let's stop that and focus on finding the Transfiguration classroom."

Ron and Chrys crossed their arms, but agreed reluctantly. "It'd be easier if there weren't so many bloody staircases," Ron mumbled.

"Or if they stayed still for a moment," Chrys added. The novelty of moving staircases was swiftly wearing off. She tripped as the step below her vanished. "Argh!" Harry grabbed her arm and pulled her up to the landing.

"Maybe it's that door over there," he guessed haphazardly. He pulled on the handle, but it wouldn't budge.

Ron kicked the door hard, stubbing his toe. He yelped and became even grumpier. "Why, won't, you, open!"

"Well I certainly won't respond to _that_ attitude!" The door spat back at them. Harry, Ron and Chrys exchanged a startled look.

"Sorry about that," Harry apologized quickly.

"Please will you open?" Chrys asked.

"Alright, that's much better," the door said softly as it swung open.

Ron stuck his head in and groaned. "Just a broom cupboard," he announced.

"There's nothing just about me," the broom cupboard said.

"Yeah, yeah." Ron shook his head. "What about down that way?"

They tried the next staircase, which was so decrepit, that Chrys gulped and hung tight to Harry's arm for fear she'd slip and fall to her doom.

Next they tried a door, which opened to reveal a solid wall, and another, which turned out to be a dark empty classroom with dusty desks, piled high.

Harry's eyes narrowed. "I swore we passed that same suit of armor of armor three times all ready…have we been going in circles somehow?"

"Maybe the it's following us around. You two are quite popular after all," Ron joked.

"Do they really move?" Harry questioned. Ron shrugged. "Let's try one more door then."

"This one's stuck as well," Ron told him.

"Please open?" Chrys asked hopefully. It still stayed shut.

Then she heard an alarming, "Mrraow!"

"Uh-oh," Ron said suddenly. He tapped the twins' shoulders. They spun around to see a scruffy looking cat streaking towards them. Following the cat was an equally grimy old man with a mop raised threateningly above his head. "That's Flich, the caretaker," Ron muttered under his breath.

"He doesn't look too happy," Chrys whispered back.

"I don't think he's ever happy," Ron gulped.

"Well, there's nowhere to go," Harry said, glancing around for an exit.

As it turned out, that last door had been the entryway to the forbidden third floor corridor.

"We had no idea that's what it was," Chrys tried to explain.

"Likely story," Flich grumbled. "What else would you be doing in this area, eh?"

"We got lost," Harry said.

"Making up stories? They think they're clever, don't they Mrs. Noris?" Flich cooed to his cat.

Chrys _knew_ she was clever, but apparently she wasn't clever enough to get them out of this unsavory situation.

"Mr. F-F-Flich, wh-what's going on h-here?" Came a shaky voice from down the hallway.

It was Professor Quirrell and his plum colored turban.

"Professor Quirrell, I've caught some students tryin' to get into the forbidden corridor," Flich said vindictively.

"N-now, I'm sure there's a p-p-perfectly re-reasonable explanation for this Argus," Quirrell stuttered.

"Yes, there is," Harry said quickly.

"We got lost and ended up here," Ron repeated.

"We didn't know this was the forbidden corridor," Chrys added.

Flich scoffed, but Quirrell believed them immediately. He sent them off to class, which they eventually reached by asking Sir Nick for directions.

Professor McGonagall was livid, but perfectly put together. She simply gave them extra homework so they could make up on what they missed in class. Chrys thought this was the most reasonable punishment she had ever received.

Still, she hoped the rest of the classes wouldn't be as hard to get to.

Though she refused to be separated from Harry, she was getting tired of his and Ron's exceptional ability to get lost. Within a couple of days they were beginning to figure out the halls and staircases, though they did get into some trouble with Peeves, who chased after them bombarding them with chalk. After the poltergeist left, Harry insisted on going back for Neville, whom Peeves had locked in a closet.

"Oh Neville," Chrys sighed as he thanked them profusely.

"Let's just stay lost today," Ron suggested. "It's History of Magic next."

"I understand it's boring, but we have to go. Hermione will kill me if I miss any more class," she told him.

"Really Chrys, how are you friends with that girl? I'd go mad."

"You are mad," Chrys said, only half-teasingly. "But she's nice you know, once you get to know her."

"Yeah right. All she does is lecture everyone and answer every single question the teachers ask."

"So she's smart, that's no reason to dislike someone."

"That's not it." Ron shook his head. "You're smart and I don't mind you."

"That's really heartwarming Ron."

Ron rolled his eyes. "There's just something about Granger that gets on my nerves…"

"Chrys and Ron, hurry up!" Harry called as he jogged in front of them.

"Oh come on, Neville's running faster than us," Ron pointed out.

In History of Magic Chrys tried not to fall asleep as she listened to the ghostly Professor Binns ramble on about goblin wars. Neville was all ready snoring gently behind her, while Harry and Ron drew out a game of hangman. Chrys wished she could join them, but every time she showed the slightest sign of being distracted, Hermione taped her quill pointedly against the desk they shared, and forced Chrys to continue taking notes. Furthermore Hermione leaned over several times to correct Chrys' spelling mistakes.

"Chrys, it's Uric spelled with a C, not a K."

"Really Hermione? These are just notes."

"If you spell it wrong in your notes you'll get into bad habits and you might spell it wrong on an essay or test," Hermione continued.

"Because a spelling mistake is clearly the end of the world," Chrys grumbled.

Chrys understood why Ron got annoyed with Hermione, but in general Chrys really enjoyed having someone besides Harry (and now Ron) looking after her.

When Chrys had several more nightmares and headaches throughout the week, Hermione got her a dreamless sleep potion from Percy. When that didn't work, Hermione stayed up with her, until they fell asleep sitting up with books in their laps.

In return Chrys defended her to Ron, and begrudgingly agreed to do all of the homework.

To be honest, she had plenty of time to get work done, as she was often up during the latest hours of night and the earliest hours of the morning.

The windowsill in the common room became her favorite spot. She could spend hours in the quiet calm, sketching the scenery or speeding through her charms homework.

Chrys found charms to be fairly easy. The teacher, Professor Flitwick was even shorted than Chrys, easily excited and most importantly, very kind. He always answered his students' questions in a thoughtful, cheerful sort of way that made Chrys feel energized and ready to go.

Unfortunately, Defense Against the Dark Arts was more along the lines of History of Magic. Professor Quirrell was polite, but his stutter and his fearful attitude made lectures a slow business. Furthermore, lectures were most they got out of that class. Fred and George mentioned there were some practical lessons taught later on, but neither of them seemed very enthusiastic about it.

"I'm just tired of the smell," George complained.

"I swear the man must stuff his turban with the stuff." Fred shuddered.

Chrys tried to be nice to Quirrell, especially after he helped them out that first day, but the acrid smell in his classroom (which was rumored to be garlic to ward off vampires), gave her a headache, and made her ill tempered.

Out of all the classes so far, Chrys and Hermione were the most interested in Transfiguration. From day one Professor McGonagall had been tough but fair, which made it easy for Chrys to focus and actually enjoy learning at the same time.

Professor McGonagall explained that Transfiguration was one of the most specific and risky sorts of magic. Chrys liked having her brain challenged while getting a bit of excitement. She always did her Transfiguration homework first, in the afternoon, with Hermione in the common room. As Chrys and Hermione were definitely the best at transfiguration in their year (well, Hermione was the best at everything), many of the other first years crowded around to ask questions. Ron and Harry generally got away with coping down the answers that they didn't understand, though Hermione always insisted they work it out on their own, "Or else you'll never learn!"

Anyway, it was fun for Chrys to get some good attention for once. Rather than people staring at her because she was half of the famous Potter twins (which they still did on the sly), or ignoring her because Dudley was punch happy, the reputation as a clever student was much more preferable.

Besides Hermione, Neville was Chrys' other favorite person to do homework with.

Neville always worked hard despite his initial confusion with almost every single topic. The exception was Herbology, which he seemed to have a natural talent and fascination for.

"It's nice to see someone else excited about the coursework." Hermione beamed as Neville finished drawing out a cart of which plants craved sunlight, and which plants shunned it. Neville flushed pink and Chrys laughed.

"Professor Sprout is a good teacher," Neville said hurriedly. "She makes me want to know more about it all."

Hermione and Chrys nodded. The plump woman always wore a wide smile when she described a plant's movements and habits, even if the description was gruesome or terrifying. In Chrys' opinion this showed a certain amount of dedication, as well as a healthy helping of obsession. Neville stood up and yawned.

"Well, if that's it I think I'll catch a couple winks before we have to head out for Astrology." Neville studied his shoes shyly. "Er, would you like to meet up to do the assignment?" He asked Hermione.

"Of course we will Neville," Hermione agreed. Neville smiled weakly at them. Chrys stifled a snort. She was fairly sure Neville had been aiming for some alone time with Hermione. She wondered if Hermione even noticed. Ron would never believe someone fancied Hermione… and speaking of Ron.

"Hey Nev, Ron's left his tie under the table—will you take it up for him?" She held it up.

"Sure," Neville yawned again, waving the tie at them as he headed up the stairs.

"Lazy, sloppy, forgetful," Hermione grumbled under her breathe. "Are you sure you have to wait for him to come to breakfast tomorrow?" She asked more loudly. "I know Harry is your brother, but Ronald Weasley is a complete—"

"Hermione! I know two don't get along, and I know those boys are incurably late to everything which bugs you to no end, but Ron is my friend and I'll stick by him."

"If you insist," Hermione sighed.

Luckily Chrys turned out to be wrong. Harry and Ron's lateness was not incurable. On Friday they finally showed up to breakfast on time.

"This calls for some celebration," Chrys declared, pulling some emergency licorice out of her pocket.

"Um, no thanks," Harry said, eyeing it dubiously.

"More for me then." Chrys shrugged.

"I'll have some." Ron snatched a piece up and nearly swallowed it whole.

"You've got to savor it Ron!"

"Okay, okay." He raised his hands defensively. Harry laughed and started choking on his bacon. Ron slapped him on the back.

After his windpipe was clear, Harry asked what classes they had today. Ron watched the Potter twins with amusement.

"You two are pouring sugar onto your porridge in the exact same way," he observed. "Fred and George do that sometimes. I wonder if all twins—"

"What class Ron?" Chrys interrupted his musing.

"Oh…right."

Today was their first potions lesson. Or rather, it was a double period of potions, alongside the Slytherins. Ron complained that Professor Snape, as the Head of Slytherin house, was rumored to favor his students.

Harry wished Professor McGonagall, Gryffindor's head of house, would favor them.

"She's nice enough to us," Chrys said.

"I guess, but she gives us so much homework," Ron groaned. Harry nodded sadly.

"We have turned up late to every single one of her classes," Chrys pointed out. "Let's try not to do that with potions, alright boys?"

"Yes Chrys," Ron and Harry chorused.

"Look, Hedwig's got a letter today," Harry observed. She flew down and landed neatly between the twins. Harry quickly ripped open the letter. "Hey, it's from Hagrid," he said excitedly.

"That's great!" Chrys leaned over his shoulder and squinted to read Hagrid's messy handwriting.

"He's inviting us to come to his house for tea this afternoon," Harry informed Ron. "I'm saying yes."

"Of course," Chrys agreed, handing him a quill. He scrawled out an answer, to which Chrys signed off _love, Chrys and Harry_.

"Time to go to potions," Ron said. So they stood up and followed their classmates down into the dungeons.

"Why have classes down here?" Chrys wondered. "The lighting and temperature is sort of depressing."

They gathered into the classroom and a few people made noises of disgust.

"Gross!" Lavender said, eyeing the shelves on the walls, which were lined with bottles of specimens floating around in mysterious juices.

"Creepy," Ron agreed, sitting next to Harry. Chrys took the seat between Harry and Hermione.

Just then Professor Snape strode into the room, his robes billowing behind him like black wings. He stood in the front, next to a fire lit cauldron. The flames made unflattering shadows fall across the all ready unpleasant juxtaposition of his dark hair and clothes with the paleness of his skin. His deep, chilling eyes flickered across them as he picked up a piece of parchment and began checking off the attendance.

When he got to Potter, Chrysanthemum, he did not stumble over her name as many had before him. Instead he went straight onto Harry's name and made a jabbing comment about the twins' fame, which was something that Harry was all ready uncomfortable about. Many of the Slytherins, including Malfoy and his gang, laughed aloud. Chrys glared as she listened to Snape's speech. He warned them against foolishness, and lack of understanding. His soft voice crept across the room, lingering sharply in their ears.

Chrys was glad they'd made it to class on time. She didn't like to think about what Professor Snape might assign as punishment.

On the other hand, she was annoyed. All ready, without having any time to assess their skills, Professor Snape was judging them harshly and negatively. She was not an imbecile, she was eager to learn, especially if she could prove she was smarter than this man thought she was. And she was not the only one who was feeling this way.

Hermione was so anxious she nearly fell off her chair.

Chrys could feel Snape watching her. She met his eyes defiantly.

He called her out immediately. "Ms. Potter, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Ron and Harry gave her worried, confused glances. Actually, the majority of the class looked like they had no idea what Snape was talking about.

"I don't know, sir," Chrys answered bitterly. Hermione stretched her hand up high, but Snape ignored her, continuing to sneer at Chrys instead. Her skin crawled and the words flew out of her mouth before she could stop them. "Though I'm assuming it's some sort of potion that you've not yet taught to us." Hermione gasped. Ron laughed, but covered his mouth up quickly. Harry nodded in approval. Snape's eyes narrowed.

"One point from Gryffindor Ms. Potter," he tutted darkly, going on to question Harry instead. "Now Mr. Potter, can you redeem your sister? Tell me, where would you find a bezoar?" Hermione groaned, practically standing up now. The Slytherins sniggered when Harry had to admit that he did not know the answer. Snape accused the twins of being behind on their reading, which was far from the truth. "Could either of you tell me what the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane is?"

Harry and Chrys exchanged a frustrated look.

"I don't know," they said in unison. "I'm sure Hermione does though," Harry continued.

"Why don't you ask her?" Chrys added.

This time it was the Gryffindors who laughed. The sandy-haired boy (whom Chrys now knew as Seamus Finnegan) winked at the twins.

Snape's lips pressed thin and white. He ordered Hermione to sit down, and spat out the answers to his questions like they should have been obvious. Then he snapped at the students, asking them why they hadn't copied this information down.

The sound of scribbling quills quickly filled the room. Snape moved silently to stand between the twins, looking at each of them in turn. "And another point off for your cheek, Potters." Chrys longed to release her true cheekiness on him, but Hermione looked incredibly disappointed so she decided to stay quiet.

Next they were told to brew the Boil-Cure Potion in pairs. Snape roamed about the room insulting everyone's skills. Truthfully, Neville's potion was a disaster (Chrys' feet were still smarting), but it was not entirely his fault, nor did Professor Snape have any right to blame the incident on Harry, who happened to be sitting nearby.

Hermione was fuming by the end of class. She and Chrys brewed the perfect potion, which looked exactly the book's description of the final product. However Snape said nothing about the potion, instead taking off a point for the sloppiness of Chrys' workstation.

Meanwhile he praised Malfoy's potion, which was quite clearly unfinished, as it was releasing a red smoke rather than pink. "I should submit an appeal," Hermione huffed. "If Malfoy received full marks then we most definitely should have—in fact," she punched the air angrily with her fist. "We deserve additional credit!"

Chrys patted her tiredly on the arm. "Leave it alone Hermione. He'd just find a way to take off more points." Then she caught sight of Ron talking gently to a mopping Harry. "I'll catch up with you later, okay?" She ran over to the boys.

"He hates us," Harry said, without turning to look at her. Normally Chrys would have called him dramatic, except, in this case that might have been putting it mildly.

Ron told them to cheer up, adding the Fred and George always got points off from Snape.

"But I'll bet they did something to deserve it," Chrys sighed. "Like putting a piece of paper that said 'jinx me' on his back or something."

Fred and George appeared out of nowhere, clapping Chrys on the back. "Never did that before," George commented.

"But it sounds intriguing," Fred continued. "We'll spice it up and get back to you."

Chrys watched them go. "Please don't tell Hermione, but I think I just lost us some more house points."

"I promise I won't say a thing," Ron laughed.

A couple hours later the three of them headed off to Hagrid's house. Chrys took the liberty of getting directions this time.

When they reached the little wooden hut Chrys smiled fondly at the giant pair of bright yellow rain boots sitting on the curb. Ron leaned over to examine a massive crossbow, but Harry pulled him back, "Wouldn't want to accidentally set it off," he pointed out.

When they knocked on the door, a loud barking responded. Apparently Hagrid had a very large dog named Fang.

Chrys liked dogs much better than cats. Ron squeaked in worry as she reached over to scratch Fang's ears, but it turned out the dog was a big softy. Despite his impressive size, dark fur and large teeth, the only danger from Fang was his habit of drooling all over everything.

Hagrid's hut smelled like wood, earth and meat (there were chunks of it hanging from the ceiling to dry). It was pleasantly warm by the crackling fire, and Chrys settled back comfortably in a hand-carved chair, nearly forgetting about the catastrophic first week she'd had.

That is, until Harry started complaining.

Luckily Hagrid was the sympathetic sort. He did not get along with Filch, or Mrs. Norris, though he did deny the possibility that Snape hated the twins.

"Are you sure you don't know anything about that Hagrid?" Chrys asked imploring, noticing the way he was staring at the ceiling. He coughed and promptly changed the conversation to Ron's older brother Charlie.

Ron went along with it. "…Romania can get hot, but as mum says, Charlie's always been the outdoors type."

Meanwhile Harry was perusing an article that had been cut out of the Daily Prophet. He made a surprised noise and passed it over to Chrys. Apparently a Gringotts vault had been broken into on their birthday.

Harry excitedly pointed out to Hagrid that it probably happened around the time they were there.

Hagrid cleared his throat and passed over another plate of his homemade rock cakes, which were unfortunately very well named.

Ron and Harry squirmed uncomfortably, not knowing how to refuse, but also not wanting to chip any more teeth. "Oh no thank you," Chrys said quickly. "It's almost dinner, so we don't want to fill up."

"That's right, a balanced meal is very important, mum always says," Ron added. Harry nodded rapidly.

Harry and Ron started playing catch with the leftover rock cakes on their way back to the castle. Chrys ducked as one soared over her head.

"You were suppose to catch it," Ron told her.

"Then you should aim better." Chrys stuck out her tongue.

"Anyway," Ron continued. "What was all that about someone robbing Gringotts though? It sounds impossible. Do you really think you could've seen the thief?"

"Well I was thinking," Harry ran a thoughtful hand through his hair. "The article said that particular vault was emptied earlier that day, so nothing was actually stolen, which is why the goblins aren't worried." He turned to Chrys. "Could the thief have been after whatever was in Hagrid's dirty paper bag?"

Chrys smiled amusedly at Harry's sticky-up hair. She ruffled it further, while he tried to wriggle away and said, "Honestly, we got to a school for witch and wizards. I'm starting to think anything is possible."

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**And there goes another chapter. Hope you like it. Please review.**

**I am working on the next chapter now.**


	9. Of Bullies and Heroics

**Kugelblitzesarehot: Thanks, it was one of my fave moments as well. (Grover in a wedding dress was pretty great as well).  
**

**Penguin Lord0029: Your welcome, thanks for the review :)  
**

**J.K Rowling is the author of _Harry Potter_ (aka the author of the sassmasters).**

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The Potter Twins and the Sorcerer's Stone:

**Chapter Eight: **Of Bullies and Heroics

* * *

Chrys was heading down to meet Hermione in the library.

Unfortunately, at the moment the fastest way to get there was across one of the oldest and most fragile staircases in the castle. It was like Hogwarts was taunting her, saying, 'Come along Chrys, step onto the staircase and then fall to your doom!'

Chrys raised her chin high and took a step forward. Then someone shoved her from behind. She landed heavily on her hands and knees. The staircase rattled beneath her. Haughty laughter echoed from above.

"A little slow, aren't you Flowerpot Girl?"

Chrys felt a snarl rise in her throat. She swallowed it down and stood slowly, taking her time to wipe her hands on her robes before turning to face him. "Malfoy. Resorting to muggle bullying? What would your father think?"

Malfoy's grin twisted into a scowl. "Well he would…"

"Yes?" Chrys thought she might have gained the upper hand, at least for now. Ever since they rejected his friendship on the Hogwarts Express, Malfoy had gone out of his way to antagonize the twins. They were not impressed with his wealth, or his pureblood family name, but every reminder of their parents' death left a fresh sting. Harry loathed him. Even Ron and Hermione's relationship looked civil compared to the way Harry and Malfoy interacted. Malfoy would prod Harry's sore spots until Harry lashed out angrily and Malfoy would smooth his fingers back through his overly gelled hair, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

So Chrys decided she'd better step up her game. With such a puffed up ego, he was bound to have a weak spot. Chrys kept her ears peeled, and eventually she found out that Malfoy was extremely sensitive about his father. Chrys had been using this to her best advantage.

Malfoy changed gears. "Are you looking forward to the flying lessons? I sure am. Though of course, I am a superb flier. Will you even be able to get on a broomstick with that fear of heights?"

Chrys gulped. He'd noticed. Perhaps Malfoy wasn't as stupid as he looked after all. She stared strongly into his eyes and stepped up so their toes were touching. He automatically stepped backwards. "Malfoy, I was sorted into Gryffindor. I can be brave. Even if I am afraid, I can keep going. So push me down as much as you like, because I will always stand up again. Can you say the same for yourself?"

She left him with his jaw dropped.

"What's got you looking so satisfied?" Hermione wondered from behind several tall stacks of books.

Chrys sat down. "Nice fort Hermione," she teased. Hermione huffed and pushed some books to the side, meeting Chrys' eyes searchingly. Hermione gasped.

"Chrys, you hands! Are you alright? Do you need to go to the hospital wing?"

"I'm fine Hermione, I'm used to this sort of thing," Chrys sighed, licking her wounds. Hermione's nose wrinkled.

"That's not very sanitary."

"But it reduces the stinging," Chrys pointed out. She looked both ways, and seeing no one around, plopped her legs up on the table, pulling back her robes to get a look at her knees. They were rubbed raw, miniature rivers of blood running down her skin. Hermione quickly pulled a handkerchief out of her bag and dabbed it gently along the cuts. Chrys hissed in pain.

"Should I…?"

"No, that's fine. Thanks for stopping the bleeding."

"Chrys…did you fall or…?" Hermione was worrying her lip between her teeth. Chrys paused, not knowing how much to say.

"It was Malfoy, he pushed me."

Hermione stood up immediately. "That's abominable! You should report him to Professor McGonagall. She can give him detention or make him—"

"Hermione, please, sit down," Chrys urged her. Hermione grumbled, but sat down, slapping her hands angrily against the table. "Take a deep breath."

Hermione did so and then, after a moment… "Why did he do that?"

Chrys shrugged. "He's a bully. He doesn't like me."

"That's not a reason," Hermione said. "I know he's made a habit of calling you and Harry names, but to suddenly rise to the level of physical injury. That's not—"

"I don't think he meant to hurt me this badly," Chrys interrupted her. "I think he just noticed I was afraid of heights and he wanted to shock me a bit."

"Don't you dare defend him," Hermione said sharply. Chrys frowned.

"I'm really not. I just think he's stupid and not worth the trouble. I've faced worse. Unless he decides to have a more serious go at Harry, I don't think I need to—"

This time Hermione interrupted. "Chrys, what have you gone through in the past? Who has been treating you so badly that this means nothing to you?" She hesitated. "I mean, I understand if it's too personal. You don't have to tell me anything that makes you uncomfortable but… I just would like to know." Chrys smiled weakly.

"It's a long story. Are you willing to cut back on studying tonight?"

"Of course I will." Hermione sounded offended.

"Okay. Then why don't you check out a couple of those, and we can head over to the bathroom. I'll wash off my hands and knees and tell you the tale of Meredith who had no mercy." Hermione nodded glumly, giving Chrys a tight hug before grabbing a pile of books and running off to find the librarian.

Chrys stood frozen once more, rather taken aback. Hermione was full of surprises.

Back in the common room Chrys and Hermione were taking a break from homework for once. They were playing Chrys' favorite game. Chrys drew a book character, a historical figure, or a personal acquaintance, and Hermione had to guess who it was.

"Ooh! That's great Chrys. It looks exactly like Charles Dickens!"

Chrys got up and did a little bow. "Thank you, thank you. I'll be here all night folks." She heard Harry snorting in amusement. Chrys turned the page in her sketchbook and held it up for him to see. "Hey Harry, who's this? Hermione had no idea."

Harry smiled nostalgically. "Clark Kent."

Hermione frowned. "I'm sure I've heard the name before, but I still don't know who that is." Harry and Chrys laughed. "Superman," they said unanimously.

"Kent is his alter-ego, you know, his secret identity," Chrys explained.

"Ah…" Hermione blushed. "Well he's not really a _book_ character per say, so I'm not sure it counts."

"Give it up Hermione. Missing one out of nine is quite impressive. Harry usually only gets about half of them right."

"That's because you mostly draw obscure mythology characters that no one knows about besides you," Harry teased.

"Hermione might know," Chrys argued. Harry nodded.

"Well I suppose she might," he agreed. Hermione sat up straight.

"I'm sure I would."

Harry coughed. "Anyway, um, Hermione, do you think I could have a word with Chrys?" Hermione blinked.

"Oh, of course. I'm sorry. I'll just go summarize these for Neville." She picked up a stack of books and started carefully up the girls' staircase. Harry watched her go.

"Were all those books about Quidditch and flying?" He asked.

"Uh-huh. And that was _after_ I crossed some off the list. Leave Hermione alone in the library and the shelves will be emptied before you know it. Anyway, what do you need brother of mine?"

Harry frowned, flopping down on the couch with a gigantic sigh. Chrys swatted his feet out of the way and sat next to him. "Let me guess, you're worried about the flying lesson tomorrow?" Harry groaned. "I'll take that as a yes. What happened though? You were practically drooling at the idea earlier."

"Malfoy happened," Harry muttered. "He's the worst there is. Dudley seems like a badly trained puppy compared to him."

"Now Harry, that is an insult to puppies. They are adorable and can get away with anything." She paused. "Though maybe that's what Dudley looks like from Aunt Petunia's perspective." Harry shuddered in disgust. "Really though. Just because Malfoy says he can fly circles around you, doesn't mean he's telling the truth."

"That's pretty much what Ron said." Harry nodded.

"Then trust Ron. He grew up around this stuff, so he has a better perspective on it then we do." She shook her head. "Plus everyone's been pretending they're Quidditch stars recently. I mean Ron definitely hasn't flown high enough to hit a hang glider, and Seamus could not have fought off a pack of flying monkeys, because I looked it up and they don't exist."

Harry laughed. "You're probably right."

"Of course I'm right." Chrys winked. "Now why don't we get a head start on the Astronomy assignment?"

"I see Hermione's rubbing off on you," Harry commented. "Though I guess I don't mind." He got up and reached over, pulling Chrys to her feet.

"Harry, you can let go of my wrist now," Chrys said, worried by the way he was staring at her hands.

"Chrys. Who did this to you? Was it Malfoy?" Harry's voice was rough. His fingernails were digging into her skin.

"I fell," Chrys said, not too convincingly.

"Come on, you can do better than that. That's the oldest excuse in the book."

"If you don't let go of me right now, I will bite you," Chrys threatened. Harry looked into her eyes, saw she wasn't bluffing, and let go. "And I did fall Harry. I was walking down the stairs, I looked down and I got scared." That was the truth. "I just fell. It has nothing to do with Malfoy." That was a lie.

Harry ran a hand through his hair and let out a breath of frustration. Chrys didn't know whether he believed her or not, because at that moment Ron and Dean came down the stairs, arguing loudly with each other.

"But I don't understand why there's only one ball," Ron grumbled. "That must be so boring."

"Football is not boring, you take that back!" Dean snapped.

"Calm down, it's only a sport," Ron said defensively.

"Oh yeah? And what if I said Quidditch was 'only a sport?'"

Ron spluttered. "What? No way. That's completely different. You just don't get it." He spotted Harry and Chrys. "Harry, tell Dean why Quidditch is better than that football thingy."

Harry just shrugged, glaring at the ceiling like he was trying to burn a hole in it.

The next morning Chrys was waiting in the common room for Harry and Ron so they go could to breakfast together like always. After their argument, Harry said he was tired and went to bed early. For the first time in years, he hadn't said goodnight to her. Chrys was twiddling her thumbs, trying to decide what to do when she saw him, when suddenly she heard footsteps. She was disappointed to see Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan.

"Expecting someone else?" Seamus grinned. Dean tilted his head curiously.

"Why are you still here? Harry and Ron left ages ago."

Chrys' eyebrows shot up. "They did?"

Dean nodded. "They didn't tell you?"

"No." Chrys wilted like an unwatered flower.

Dean and Seamus exchanged a nervous look. "Eh, well maybe they were really hungry and rushed down soon as they woke up," Seamus suggested. Chrys smiled sadly. That was kind of him, but she knew otherwise.

"Could be," she said aloud. The gossipers would have a field day if they knew the famous Potter twins were fighting.

"Want to come down with us?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, the more the merrier!" Seamus cried. Chrys nodded quietly, following them down without a word.

At the Gryffindor table Harry was sitting between Ron and Neville. When Neville saw Chrys he got up immediately. "Sorry, I'm in your seat," he said quickly.

"No, Neville," Harry said. "You're fine. Sit back down."

Neville paused, his bottom halfway off the bench. Chrys nodded encouragingly at him, and went took a seat between Hermione and Pavarti. Everyone at the table fell into an awkward silence. Chrys hated the feeling of hungry stares pressing against her. She knew Harry hated it as well. Serves him right, she thought grumpily.

The sound of wings and hooting descended down upon them. "There's the mail," Hermione pointed out, overenthusiastically.

"Malfoy's got more sweets sent from home," Ron complained from down the table. "Hope he gets fat."

Harry and Chrys snorted, eyes meeting for a moment. They turned away sharply. Hermione was looking questioningly at Chrys, but she was saved having to answer by Neville calling out that his gran had sent him something called a Remembrall.

"Doesn't that sound interesting Chrysanthemum?" Hermione said.

"Sounds like a useless invention," Chrys mumbled.

"I quite agree," a horribly familiar voice said. The Gryffindors spun around. Malfoy grabbed Neville's Remembrall, and waved it tauntingly out of his reach.

Harry, Chrys and Ron stood up at once, just about to advance on Malfoy when Professor McGonagall appeared out of nowhere.

Neville told her what was happening. She gave Malfoy her infamous stern glance, and he handed the glass ball back immediately.

Then he swooped away, his robes billowing behind him, making him look like the junior version of Professor Snape.

Chrys was so ready to angrily shovel unnecessary amounts of food into her mouth, but McGonagall was giving her a curious look. "Ms. Potter, if you might join me in my office for a moment."

The other students protested. "Professor she hasn't done anything wrong," Harry said quickly.

"It was all Malfoy's fault," Ron argued.

"She was just trying to help," Neville worried.

Professor McGonagall raised her hands up, silencing them without a word. "I am not going to punish Ms. Potter, I merely wish to have a word with her in private."

"What about?" Harry asked.

"In private means in private Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall told him. "Do not worry, she will be back in time for class." Then she started down the hall. Chrys got up and followed, dragging her feet. "Better bring your things just in case," Professor McGonagall added as an afterthought.

It was much too quiet in Professor McGonagall's office, and despite her assurances, Chrys still felt strongly like she was about to be reprimanded.

An old clock on the mantelpiece ticked by at a ridiculously slow pace. Chrys was trying to remember which class she had first, so that she could explain to the teacher why she was later, when Professor McGonagall finally spoke up.

"Do you know why you are here Ms. Potter?"

Chrys shook her head. "Not at all. Have I done something wrong?"

"Not so far as I am aware of," Professor McGonagall said. "No. I thought we should talk about something that has been brought to my attention."

"And what was that?"

"Percy Weasley tells me you have a rather difficult case of insomnia?"

Chrys blinked. "Oh. Well… it's not that bad Professor. I just have trouble sleeping sometimes."

Professor McGonagall continued, "Percy Weasley also mentioned that Ms. Granger requested some healing aids for dealing with cuts and bruises. He informed me that after some coaxing Ms. Granger admitted that those aids were needed to treat injuries you had recently attained. When asking how you had received these injuries, Ms. Granger said only that you had fallen. This is of course a possible explanation, but Mr. Weasley believed, as I do, that there might be more to the story." Chrys was stunned into silence. Percy needed to learn how to shut up. "May I ask why you did not go directly to the Hospital Wing after you…fell?"

"I didn't think it was necessary. The cuts have scabbed over and the bruises will fade with time. It's nice of Hermione to want to help, but I'm okay on my own."

"Okay?" Professor McGonagall repeated in disbelief. "This is not 'okay' Ms. Potter. You are my student and I am your head of house. While you are in this castle you are my responsibility. I have every right to know when you are having difficulties." Chrys imagined that Professor McGonagall's eyes suddenly softened. "If you are troubled or in trouble, you can inform me of the situation and I will offer you my assistance."

Chrys sighed. "That's very kind of you Professor, but I don't really need your help with anything. I'm not in trouble. I'm doing well."

Professor McGonagall frowned, picked up a tin on her disk, and handed it over to Chrys. "Ginger Newt biscuits," the Professor explained, seeing Chrys' confusion. "I have interrupted your breakfast. I know they are no substitute for a Hogwarts meal, but I admit I am quite fond of Ginger Newt biscuits." Chrys took two, never being the sort to refuse sweets.

"Thank you," she said after swallowing. Really the taste wasn't that bad. She could get used to Ginger Newt biscuits. Just as long as she wasn't interrogated every time she ate them. Professor McGonagall was formidable in more ways than one.

Chrys had been worried Harry would still be cross with her when she got back to class. However, seeing the expression of concern on his face made a relieved warmth spread through her.

The class was just starting to get out their notes. Harry and Ron were sitting next to each other as usual. Chrys paused carefully in front of their desk. Harry gave her a tentative smile that she returned immediately.

"So what did McGonagall want?" Ron asked flippantly.

"I'll tell you later," Chrys said, giving his seat a pointed look.

"Alright then." Ron shrugged, not understanding what she was getting at.

Hermione's voice came floating up from behind them. "Maybe you should go sit next to Neville. Maybe he needs your help with the notes," she told Ron.

Ron stared at her incredulously. "But my notes are rubbish," he argued. "You said so yourself just the other day."

"Ron, can I please sit next to my brother?" Chrys asked straight out.

"Oh…" Ron finally realized. "Just say so if that's what you wanted." He got up and went to sit next to Neville. Chrys took his seat beside Harry.

"No subtlety whatsoever," Hermione hissed under her breath. She leaned over between the twins and whispered, "Why I doubt he even realized you two had an argument and now need time to reconcile."

Chrys and Harry cleared their throats unanimously. Hermione did not take the hint. "Hermione, Professor Binns' has started his lecture," Chrys told her.

Hermione's attention was successfully diverted. She began scribbling furiously. Chrys stifled a laugh. Then she scooted closer to Harry and sighed.

"You were right. Malfoy pushed me over. I'm sorry I lied. " Harry's eyes narrowed dangerously. "But this is why I didn't tell you. You're going to make way too big a deal about it and I'll feel even worse. And I think McGonagall must have suspected some of what's going on—that's why she wanted to talk. To be honest, I think she's the best teacher we've ever had, but I still don't feel comfortable telling her about something like that."

Harry tapped his quill against their desk. "I get why you wouldn't want to tell her," he said softly.

"Some things I don't want to tell anyone," she muttered.

"You told Hermione," he pointed out.

Hermione looked up at her name. She gave the two of them a suspicious look. "Don't forget to take notes," she murmured, before focusing back on her own parchment.

Chrys scribbled mindlessly to appease her friend. Then she frowned. "How did you know I told Hermione?"

"She's been hovering over you like a mother hen," Harry said, half-amused and half-annoyed.

"If she's been a mother hen, then you've been a raging mother bear," Chrys countered defensively.

"I wasn't insulting her. I'm glad she cares about you." He paused, watching Chrys doodle bears and chickens on her parchment. He reached over and drew a mustache on one of the bears. Chrys looked curiously at him. "I was an idiot. I'm sorry I overreacted," he said humbly.

Chrys' mouth hinted at a smile. "Yeah you were, and yeah you did…but I accept your apology."

"Thank goodness. I don't know what I would've done if I couldn't copy your notes anymore," Harry joked, now drawing a large afro on one of the chickens. Chrys giggled behind her hand.

"Oh yes, my notes are nearly as useful as Ron's."

The twins glanced over to see Ron and Neville, leaning against each other, sleeping soundly as Ron drooled on Neville's robes.

Later that day Chrys skipped across the grass, following her housemates to their first flying lesson.

Poor Neville tripped and went rolling down the hill. Harry and Hermione ran after him, stopping him just in time before he slammed into a group of snickering Slytherins.

The Slytherins were all ready standing one of the lines of broomsticks set up on the lawn.

The Gryffindors went over to the opposite side. Ron studied one of the broomsticks, shaking his head in disappointment. "These things look almost as old as the rundown ones we use at home," he complained. "Fred and George told me the navigation and stabilization systems rarely work properly in the school brooms. They're well due for an update. Merlin I wish I could get my hands on a Nimbus 2000…" Ron stared dreamily into the distance. Chrys snapped her fingers in front of his face to bring him back to earth as Madam Hooch came towards them.

"Interesting cut," Lavender said thoughtfully, eyeing Madam Hooch's spiky, grey hair.

"It's probably more practical for flying around in the wind," Hermione said reasonably. Chrys shrugged.

Madam Hooch told them to put their right hand over their broom and order it to go 'up.'

Chrys did so, with her heart thumping anxiously. Though Harry and a few other people were holding their brooms comfortably, the majority of the class was watching their brooms roll helplessly around the ground (Chrys included). "What's the trick?" Chrys asked Harry.

"I think you've got to have bit of confidence in yourself or else it won't listen to you," Harry answered. Chrys tried again, this time sending out commanding waves. The broom jumped up this time, coming just short of her hand.

"Not bad," Ron said, having caught his on the third try. Hermione was staring at her broom in annoyance. Pavarti was so surprised to see her broom zooming towards her that she almost didn't catch it in time. Neville looked miserable.

Madam Hooch seemed to think it was high time to move on, and now showed them how to mount their brooms. Harry and Ron sniggered when she corrected Malfoy's stance.

Chrys found it much easier to sit on an intimate object, rather than telling it to perform miracles.

Next they were told to wait for the whistle, kick off, and hover slightly above the grass.

Neville looked quite determined this time, but he ended up jumping the gun, kicking off too early and perhaps too hard. He whizzed up into the air faster than you could say, "Uh-oh."

Chrys winced as Neville fell off his broom, landing with a horrible smack.

Several people gasped. Everyone ran forward to see what had happened. Madam Hooch turned pale, helping him stand up, and announcing that she was going to take him to the hospital wing to get his broken wrist healed. She threatened the students with expulsion if they even touched their brooms while she was gone.

"I hope he'll be alright," Hermione sighed. Pavarti was clutching Lavender nervously.

Seamus was frowning hard, but he said, "Madam Pompfrey is a class A healer, she'll have him right as rain in no time." Dean nodded in agreement.

"She was a great when Seamus accidentally blew off his eyebrows."

Chrys tried not to laugh. "How on earth did you manage to blow off your eyebrows Seamus?"

Seamus grumbled and stared at the ground, but Dean smiled and leaned over to whisper conspiratorially in her ear. "The first time he was trying to turn some water into rum, and the second time—"

"It was only one time!" Seamus argued, apparently able to hear every word. "It's not bloody fair to count the other two times."

"Watch your language Seamus," Hermione said automatically.

Seamus rolled his eyes. "Ay, sure I will _mum_." Pavarti and Lavender giggled. Hermione glared.

"More importantly," Harry said suddenly. "I think Malfoy's just stolen Neville's Remembrall."

Harry was right.

Malfoy made fun of Neville, spinning the Remembrall around like a trophy.

Pavarti snapped defensively at him.

Pansy Parkinson, irreverent, Slytherin gossip girl extraordinaire, snapped right back.

Harry told Malfoy to hand over the Remembrall.

Malfoy smirked, saying he'd rather hide it up in a tree.

Harry started forward, but Malfoy hopped on his broom and soared up into the air.

"Shit, he's actually not a bad flier," Seamus said, annoyed.

This time Hermione didn't call him out for swearing, she was too busy trying to convince Harry not to follow Malfoy.

"If you hadn't noticed, the lesson got interrupted shortly after it started. You don't know how to fly Harry," Chrys reminded him.

Harry's cheeks were pink, but his spine was straight. "Well I'll just have to make it up as I go along. Isn't that our specialty, Chrys?"

Despite their protests he got on his broom and was off.

"Oh no, what if he falls like Neville did?" Hermione was aghast.

Chrys stared closely. "No, I think he's fine."

"How can you know that?"

"Because he's smiling."

And Chrys was right. Harry beamed as he executed a dangerous looking twist in mid air.

"Oh wow," Pavarti said.

Lavender giggled again. "Maybe being scrawny isn't too bad," she told Chrys. "Your brother's actually looking pretty good right now." Seamus frowned.

Ron cheered. "He's great. Go Harry!"

Harry and Malfoy rose higher in the air, facing off with great tension. Chrys adjusted her glasses. "Stupid failing eyesight, I can't see a thing now," Chrys complained.

"I think I can make it out," Ron said, squinting. "Yeah…they're arguing with each other…that's to be expected… ooh Malfoy looks scared…he's thrown something…it's the Remembrall. Merlin it's going fast. Oh and now Harry's diving after it." He winced. Hermione was biting her nails.

For a moment Chrys was worried Harry was going to smash into the ground and become flat as a pancake. Then he pulled up at the absolute last second, raising the Remembrall triumphantly in his fist.

In a careful, purposeful way, he fell forward on to the grass, smiling up at Chrys and the Gryffindors who were crowded around to praise him—

Professor McGonagall strode forward, brow furrowed as she shouted his name.

"Bad luck Harry," Ron muttered. Chrys and Ron pulled Harry to his feet, just in time for Professor McGonagall to start chiding Harry, words breaking choppily in excitement.

Pavarti and Ron quickly tried to explain, but McGonagall cut them off. She ordered Harry to follow her. Chrys tried to come as well, but McGonagall seemed to guess she would, because without even turning she said, "Not you Ms. Potter. You stay there."

"Bad luck," Ron repeated, shaking his head. "And after such a magnificent save."

"Yeah," Dean sighed. "I'm starting to see why you go on so much about Quidditch, Ron, Seamus."

Seamus patted him on the back. "But at what cost mate? Harry might get expelled now."

"Do you really think Professor McGonagall will be that harsh?" Pavarti asked.

"She is rather strict." Lavender frowned.

In the Slytherin corner of the field, Malfoy was gloating about getting a nuisance like Harry expelled for good.

Ron clenched his fists. "I ought to make him shut up."

Seamus rolled up his sleeves. "I'm right behind you mate."

Dean gulped. "Well…if you need me…"

Chrys frowned thoughtfully.

"Oh please, no fighting. Then more people will get expelled, and there will be no chance of us winning the house cup and Professor McGonagall will be so disappointed in us," Hermione started rambling.

Before the boys (and possibly Chrys) could attack Malfoy, Madam Hooch came back and continued the lesson.  
Nearly everyone was having trouble concentrating. Malfoy was giving Chrys smug looks, wigging his eyebrows and mouthing things at her every time Madam Hooch was turned the other way.

"You're next," he whispered tauntingly.

Chrys was glad when the lesson was finally over and they could head back to the castle. She had been planning on faking some injury, so she could sneak into the castle, find Professor McGonagall and somehow convince her to let Harry stay… but Hermione was watching her like a hawk.

"If that git's gotten Harry expelled, he'll seriously regret it," Ron muttered darkly. Chrys nodded, but Hermione shook her head.

"I did warn him. I told Harry not to—"

"Shut up Hermione," Ron growled, stomping forward. Hermione looked to Chrys for support, but Chrys just glared, speeding up to walk with Ron.

During dinner Ron and Chrys huddled together, staring gloomily at the food, as if it were some great mystery that needed to be solved.

"He really cares about Harry, doesn't he?" Hermione whispered, surprised.

"Yes…but how did you finally come to the conclusion?" Chrys wondered, still a bit annoyed at her for acting like Professor McGonagall was justified.

Hermione pointed. "He's not stuffing his mouth as usual," she pointed out.

Ron groaned. "It's torture not knowing."

"Can't be much longer," Chrys assured him, though she knew exactly how he was feeling.

"There he is," Ron said suddenly, standing up at attention.

Harry came to the table, eyes staring mournfully at the ground. Ron turned pale.

"No way…"

Harry nodded, squeezing in-between them.

Chrys sighed. "I'll pack my bags soon as I finish dinner. Unless she wants you out right this instance?"

"First of all," Harry said slowly. "If I were expelled I would never dare make you leave as well."

"If?" Chrys squeaked excitedly.

Harry took his time spooning potatoes onto his plate before he continued. "Secondly, I'm not expelled. McGonagall hasn't punished me in the slightest."

Ron slapped him on the back. "Bloody hell Harry, you really had me going for a moment there."

"I thought he was going to soil his trousers," Chrys joked. Ron glared at both of them.

"Honestly mate, why'd you lead us on like that?"

Harry grinned evilly and then burst out laughing. "You should have seen the looks on your faces," he said when he stopped to breathe.

"I hate you sometimes," Chrys muttered. Harry pouted. "Okay, I'll never hate you," Chrys admitted, giving him a hug. Though he was sometimes squeamish of touchy-feely moments, Harry allowed the hug, even patting her on the back at bit. It had been a long day after all.

"You two are almost as bad for my health as Fred and George," Ron grumbled.

"Sorry Ron, I'll never make you worry again."

"Ha." Chrys thought that was highly unlikely. It was more likely Harry would give them all ulcers before they were twenty.

"Anyway," Ron asked, calming down after filling his stomach. "If McGonagall wasn't punishing you, what'd she want to see you for?"

"Well, let me tell you it was a surprise," Harry began.

"That seems to be a pattern with her," Chrys said thoughtfully. "Maybe she's the sort who looks fierce and cool on the outside, but is really warm and fuzzy within."

Harry and Ron exchanged a doubtful look. "No way," Ron said.

"Probably not," Harry seconded.

Chrys shrugged. "Whatever. I'm just glad to have both my boys back." Harry and Ron flushed.

"We are not your boys," Ron denied loudly. Fred and George looked over curiously from the other side of the table. Ron coughed.

When Harry told them what Professor McGonagall had done, Ron was so shocked that he dribbled pumpkin juice all over his robes. He was so distracted that he didn't even push Chrys away when she started dabbing it up.

Apparently being an eleven-year-old seeker was quite a rare thing. Harry was the youngest to play in a century. The team captain, a fifth year named Oliver Wood, was planning on making Harry his secret weapon for the tournament.

He was telling Ron about his hush-hush training schedule, when the Weasley twins popped up behind them.

"I thought you were listening in on the conversation." Chrys smiled.

"Guilty as charged," George said, rubbing his neck. Though he was grinning as widely as she was.

They congratulated Harry on a job well done, explaining that they were on the team as beaters. They finished with saying that Wood had high hopes, before heading off to meet Lee.

Then someone a whole lot less pleasant came over. "To what do we owe the pleasure," Chrys muttered through gritted teeth.

Malfoy turned his nose up at her. "Going to be lonely after your brother leaves?" He asked. "Planning on shacking up with freckle-face here and extending the long line of blood-traitors? Weasleys breed like rabbits after all." Ron turned red and stood up. Harry grabbed his sleeve and pulled him down again. Though Harry looked equally angry, he was smart enough not to do anything in front of the teachers. As Chrys failed to respond to Malfoy's taunts, he moved onto Harry instead.

Harry didn't bother to tell Malfoy he was scot-free, instead pointing out that Malfoy seemed much more willing to confront him with his boulder-bodied friends at his side. Crabbe and Goyle made threatening faces, waving their meaty fists. Malfoy glanced hesitantly at the teacher's table, motioning for his unofficial bodyguards to settle down.

Instead, he challenged Harry to a wizard's duel.

Harry and Chrys were equally confused by this, but decided not to show it. Ron accepted for them, declaring himself Harry's second.

Malfoy chose Crabbe to back him up, and set the date for midnight in the trophy room.

"What's a wizard's duel?" Chrys and Harry asked in unison after he'd left. "And what do you mean, you're my second?" Harry added.

Ron nonchalantly explained that he would take over dueling Malfoy if Harry should be killed. Chrys narrowed her eyes, but Ron quickly went on to say that it couldn't be a _real_ duel with Malfoy, as neither of them knew any proper spells, and Malfoy was probably just spitting hot air anyway.

Harry was still worried at the prospect of fighting with magic.

Ron suggested a good punch if all else failed.

At that moment, Hermione took it upon herself to interject. Chrys wondered if any conversations were private at the dinner table.

Ron tried to tell Hermione off, but she continued anyway, warning Harry that he would lose house points if he were caught wondering around school at night.

"Ah, but then all we have to do is not get caught," Chrys pointed out, trying to get Hermione to lighten up.

It didn't work. Hermione just frowned at them. Harry told her it was none of her business anyway and Ron waved dismissively at her.

Hermione continued to argue with Chrys, as they got ready for bed.

"I know it's probably a stupid idea, but that's why it's all the more important for me to go with them. You know how they are. They'll get lost without me."

"They'll probably get lost even if you are with them," Hermione grumbled, trying to force her hair into a braid. "It's really important that we don't lose the house cup. They won't listen to me, but they might listen to you. As my friend, won't you help me out? Please tell them not to do it."

There was a little tug in Chrys' chest at the word 'friends.' Hermione was looking imploringly at her.

"Hermione, I'm glad you're my friend, but if you think winning the house cup is more important to me than Harry and Ron's safety, then you're not nearly as clever as you look."

Hermione huffed, and snuggled angrily into her blankets. Then she sat bolt upright and pushed them away from her.

"You okay Hermione?" Pavarti called from across the room.

"I'm fine," she called back, before turning to Chrys and hissing, "If you won't stop them then I'll have to take matters into my own hands." She stood up, and pulled on a bathrobe. Then she slipped on her slippers and padded softly, but swiftly out of the room. Chrys groaned and jogged after her.

"Come on Hermione," she begged quietly. "Don't do anything drastic." Though Hermione was the perfect, well-behaved student, Chrys thought she was quite capable of doing something crazy if it suited her needs.

"I won't do anything drastic," Hermione promised. Chrys sighed in relief. "I'm only going to tell Percy."

Chrys groaned. "Gosh, don't tell Percy, he's the biggest blabbermouth in all of Gryffindor—and that's including Lavender the queen of gossip!"

"Why shouldn't I tell him?"

Chrys thought quickly. "Because if you tell him, he'll tell Professor McGonagall and she'll take points off preemptively. At the very least wait until the boys come down and then decide what you're going to do." Harry was a pretty convincing speaker, maybe he could get even Hermione's stubbornness to budge.

Hermione crossed her arms and sat stiffly in the armchair. Chrys sat next to her, shaking her head in exasperation.

Sooner than later, Harry and Ron came down the stairs.

"Time to go," Ron told Chrys, not spotting Hermione until she spoke up.

Hermione tried to appeal to Harry, but Harry was looking at her like she was one of Mrs. Figg's cats—all up in your face and purring way too loud.

Then she tried to threaten them. Ron was angry, but Harry simply started walking away. Ron, Hermione and Chrys followed him out of the portrait hole.

Hermione continued talking at them, now turning to Chrys and telling her she had no house spirit. Ron told her to go away. Hermione was about to say something else, when suddenly she gapped at something behind Chrys.

Chrys turned around and frowned deeply.

The Fat Lady was gone. "Well that was an unfortunate time for her to decide to take a stroll," Chrys said. Now there was no way for them to get inside, even if they wanted to.

Hermione, predictably started to freak out. Ron shrugged and started walking off, deciding to leave her there. Hermione was having none of that, and began following them again.

Harry finally told them to shut up, warning them that he heard something.

They all shut up. Ron worriedly thought it was Mrs. Norris. Fortunately it was only Neville. Unfortunately Neville now had no way to get back inside and he was too scared to be left here alone.

So now there were five, rather the planed three.

Ron kept glancing impatiently at his watch as they walked at a quick pace. Hermione continued prattling on, while Neville nervously tried to chat to Chrys. "So what's going on exactly?" He asked.

"Harry and Ron are off to a wizard's duel with Malfoy and Crabbe. I came along to make sure they didn't get lost. Hermione came along to try and stop us."

"Ah, I see," Neville said, sounding just as confused.

"Shut up—all of you!" Harry barked. "Do you want us to get caught?"

So Chrys silently navigated their way to the trophy room. Ron poked his head in. "It's completely empty," he announced. "They're not here yet."

"Why am I not surprised?" Chrys muttered under her breath. Neville marveled at all the shinny awards. Harry tapped his wand anxiously against his trouser leg. Chrys shivered. Harry noticed.

"Want to borrow my jumper?" He offered, starting to tug it over his head. Chrys considered.

Ron looked up from his watch, announcing that Malfoy was late, and maybe he was too scared to come.

Hermione opened her mouth to comment—but then shut it again quickly. Filch's voice came from behind the door.

Harry took charge, gesturing at them all to follow him.

After many minutes, during which, Neville tripped and accidentally brought Ron down with him, Hermione's hair slapped everyone in the face, and Chrys nearly got stabbed by a sword sticking out of a suit of armor's hand.

"Chrys you're stepping on my foot," Harry told her once they were hidden in relative safety in a secret passageway behind a tapestry.

"Sorry, it's too dark in here," she mumbled, accidentally elbowing someone in the stomach. "Whoever that was, I apologize."

"'s okay," Ron gasped in pain.

Hermione and Neville were also gasping, but because neither of them were used to running so rigorously.

Harry popped his head outside, and after he was fairly certain Filch was gone, they all piled out into the open.

As soon as she could talk, Hermione got in her 'I told you so!' going on to say that Malfoy obviously set them up, reporting them to Filch so they would definitely get in trouble.

"You're probably right," Chrys admitted while Harry leaned against a wall and sulked. "Shouldn't we go to bed now?" She suggested.

"The Fat Lady might back by the time we are," Neville said hopefully.

Harry was about to agree when Peeves suddenly melted out of a nearby door.

The poltergeist cackled in glee. "Wee Potty, wee Potty and also a spotty!" He sang, pointing at Harry, Chrys and Ron in turn.

"They're freckles," Ron blustered. Harry was more worried that Peeves was going to draw Filch's attention. He pleaded with Peeves not to say anything, but Peeves just continued making silly songs without giving them a straight answer.

Ron got fed up and took an aggressive step towards him—

And Peeves started screaming, giving out their location immediately.

"Nice going spotty," Chrys grumbled at Ron as they started running again.

"They-are-not-spots!" Ron huffed.

"We…all…get spots…sometimes," Neville said comfortingly.

"More importantly, we've come to a dead end," Harry pointed out, screeching to a stop.

"There's still this one door," Ron said hopefully grasping the handle.

Unsurprisingly it was locked.

Ron started to gripe dramatically. Chrys thought Harry's attitude was rubbing off on him. She also thought this door looked oddly familiar…

Hermione shoved Ron out of the way, stole Harry's wand and promptly unlocked the door with a spell. Harry grabbed them, pulled them inside and shut the door.

Then he pressed his ear up against the door, trying to find out what was going on outside. Chrys could hear Filch and Peeves arguing not too far away.

She did not care.

She and Neville were facing away from the door, and could see clearly down the corridor. She wished she couldn't. It was a terrifying sight.

She and Neville clung to each other, hands slapped over their mouths to prevent themselves from shouting out.

The gigantic, drooling, yellow-eyed, _three headed_ dog, was glaring down suspiciously at the group of children huddled around the door.

"Cerberus," Chrys was unable to stop the word for spilling out of her mouth.

Harry told her to shush. Neville pulled anxiously on his sleeve. Harry waited a moment later, and said they should be fine as Filch didn't seem to suspect their position.

"We will not be fine," Chrys disagreed strongly, grabbing Harry by the ear and forcing him to face the monster.

"I'd rather Filch than death," Harry decided loudly, trying to find the door handle. Hermione and Ron came late to the party, finally noticing what was going on. She gapped silently and then scrambled for the handle as well. Ron pulled Chrys and Neville back by the shirt collars, just in time for the door to finally open. They all tumbled onto the floor. Harry slammed the door shut again, and then took off at a run.

The others followed without question.

Luckily the Fat Lady was indeed back when they reached Gryffindor tower. She was a bit suspicious, but they were all too tried to care by now. Harry gave her the password, and they quickly got inside, falling gratefully onto the couch like it was a little piece of heaven. Chrys rubbed her aching feet. She had been running through the castle without shoes.

Things were very quiet until Ron spoke up, wondering what on earth a dog like that was going locked up in a school. He snuck in a joke, which made Chrys smile appreciatively, but it had exactly the opposite affect on Hermione.

She frowned angrily, seeming to think that the reason for the dog's presence was obvious. Apparently there was some significance to where it had been standing.

"What, the floor?" Harry and Chrys wondered aloud. Harry explained that the heads had taken up most of his attention.

Hermione stood up, hands on her hips, lamenting at the fact that they could have been killed—or worse expelled.

Chrys winced. Her friend had some screwed up priorities.

Ron seemed to think so as well. He stared after her as she marched haughtily up the stairs.

"I think I'll go to bed too," Neville yawned, wiping some sweat off his head. He looked at Harry and Ron. "You two coming up?"

"Soon, soon," Harry waved his hand dismissively. Ron nodded distractedly, both seemed to be in deep thought.

"Night Nev," Chrys said. He waved goodbye, with a large sigh.

The three of them lay on the carpet, side by side, staring at the cracks on the ceiling.

"…I could use a snack," Ron said after a while. "Have any licorice Chrys?"

She glanced calculatingly at him. "Well…I do, but there's only a little left so I'm saving it for emergencies."

"I think this qualifies," Ron laughed. Chrys agreed, and they had a little snack as Harry mused aloud.

"Remember Hagrid said that Hogwarts was the only place as safe as Gringotts? If that package he took out on our birthday really was what the thief was after, then we can assume it's important. And if it's so important then it might justify getting a monster to guard it."

"But that's all just speculation," Chrys said, sucking on the end of her licorice to make it last longer.

"Sounds pretty solid to me," Ron commented. "Though anything would sound pretty solid to me at this time of night."

"Really?" Chrys asked mischievously.

"Don't answer that," Harry said firmly. "She'll manipulate you into doing something weird and highly embarrassing before you even know it."

"You should have gone along with it. I promise you it would've been extremely entertaining," Chrys told Harry.

"Maybe next time," Harry said lightly. Chrys rolled over, managing to put all of her weight on him. He pushed her off and sent her smacking into Ron.

Ron shuffled over, giving her some more space. Chrys yawned, "I'm starting to feel delirious. Did we really almost get eaten by a three headed dog or was that one of the delusions?"

"Maybe we should get some rest," Ron suggested.

"Aw, Ronald is trying to be responsible," Chrys cooed. She reached over and ruffled his and Harry's hair at the same time. The boys grumbled and sat up.

"Time to go to bed," Harry announced, pulling her to her feet.

"See you in the morning my adventure boys," Chrys smiled.

Harry sighed and Ron rolled his eyes, but they were both grinning back at her.

* * *

**Keep on keeping on I guess. Some vague Doctor Who references in this. (How about if you find a reference you get points for your house of choosing, and then at the end of the fic one house will emerge victorious. IDK, just thought that up now. We can try it out though, see if it works).  
**


	10. Of Pigs and Arguments

**Thank you for everyone's continued support. Let me know what you think of this chapter.  
I don't own _Harry Potter_.**

* * *

The Potter Twins and the Sorcerer's Stone:

**Chapter Nine: **Of Pigs and Arguments

* * *

The next morning Hermione got up on the wrong side of the bed…literally.

Normally she slid off the right side of her four-post, straight into her fluffy slippers. Today she was bleary eyed as she tumbled off the left side, landing on a pile of Chrys' stuff.

"This is why cleaning is important!" She lectured as she pulled bits of a broken quill out of her hair.

"Yes Hermione," Chrys yawned. Though Chrys thought being so messy while owning so few possessions must be an impressive talent.

"Ooh you two have got some awful dark circles… and bags," Lavender commented, holding up a mirror and gesturing at their eyes.

"There's a potion for that, I think," Pavarti added.

"Hmmm…" Chrys muttered distractedly. Hermione had somehow gotten dressed at super-speed.

"Chrys, come down to breakfast early with me," she ordered as she laced up her shoes. "We've got to talk about last night," she continued in a hushed voice, as the two of them walked down the stairs.

"Well, I do feel bad that you and Neville got caught up it all, but I don't think it was necessarily my fault."

Hermione sighed. "I suppose you're right, but that doesn't excuse your brother or Ronald. The whole catastrophe could have been prevented if they thought things through and followed the rules."

"Sometimes there isn't enough time to think things through," Chrys argued. "And actually, it was kind of fun running around the school at night. Anyway, we didn't get caught, so your precious house cup isn't in jeopardy."

"Thinking like that makes you one small step away from becoming a delinquent," Hermione warned. "I can't blame you for what happened, but I do think it was a disgusting business and I'm happy to see the end of it."

On the flipside, Harry and Ron were pleased and eager for more. At breakfast they traded theories on what the dog could be guarding.

"All we know for sure, is that the object is about this big," Harry said, holding his hands a small way apart to demonstrate.

"You mean the paper bag was about that big…whatever was inside could've been even smaller," Chrys reasoned.

Ron rubbed his chin. "Either way we need to find some more clues."

On the other side of the table Neville was struggling to reach the sugar. Chrys leaned over and passed it to him. He thanked her and then frowned.

"Are they still going on about that dog?" He wondered. Chrys nodded hesitantly. Neville shivered. "Out of mind and out of sight is what my nan always says."

Hermione crossed her arms and glared at the cloudy ceiling. "Tell your brother and Ronald that I will not be speaking to them until they apologize and drop this nonsense."

"Er…okay Hermione, I'll tell them." So she did, and they responded by jumping up and high-fiving each other. "Harry…" Chrys muttered disappointingly. "Hermione is my friend."

Harry smiled apologetically. "I don't hate her or anything, but you have to admit she bosses people around a bit."

"A bit?" Ron shook his head. "That's putting it lightly. She a complete know-it-all. I say good riddance."

"Boys," Chrys grumbled, though secretly she knew they had a point.

"By the way," Ron said, perking up even more. "Did you see the look on Malfoy's face when we turned up for breakfast? He expected us to be thrown out on our arses. Must have been a nasty shock to see we were still around."

Harry nodded. "Now if only we could get him back somehow."

"I'm sure we'll think of something," Chrys said, rubbing her hands together gleefully.

However, with Hermione not speaking to the boys, Chrys was struggling to not take sides, which left her little time to plan revenge.

Conviently, payback arrived a week later by owl post.

Harry blinked in confusion several owls swooped down and placed a slender package in front of him. Ron was clearly curious, and went to unwrap it immediately, but Chrys stopped him.

She had opened the note first, which told her what was inside the mysterious wrappings, and instructions for opening it. Harry and Ron quickly read the note, ecstatic smiles spreading over their faces. Harry scrambled to his feet, carrying the package out through the door.

Ron whooped and snatched it from him. "Let's open it up!" He said, sprinting up the stairs two at a time. "Come on! To the common room!" He raised it up above his head, and promptly got it stolen away by Malfoy. Harry frowned and tried to get it back, but Crabbe and Goyle blocked him.

Malfoy seemed to guess at what was inside, and immediately looked jealous. He tried to hide his feelings by reminding Harry that first years weren't allowed to have broomsticks, so Harry would finally be expelled.

Chrys snuck around Crabbe's back, while Ron distracted them by telling them exactly what make and model of broom this was. She grabbed it back when they became slack-jawed in shock. Ron hazarded that Malfoy probably had an inferior broom at home. This seemed to hit the bull's eye.

Malfoy spluttered and said that at least he could afford a good broomstick—he doubted the Weasleys could.

Ron scowled, but Chrys quickly jumped in, waving at someone coming up behind Malfoy. "Why hello Professor Flitwick!" She said cheerfully. The Syltherins spun around in surprise.

"Hello Ms. Potter," Professor Flitwick returned her greeting with a little grin. Then he glanced between Malfoy and Ron. He said he hoped they weren't arguing.

Malfoy immediately tattled on Harry.

Professor Flitwick just continued smiling, nodding to himself and telling them that Professor McGonagall had explained the special circumstances to him. He wondered curiously what model Harry had received.

Harry told him, cheekily thanking Malfoy for helping things happen this way.

Then Harry and Ron practically skipped up the stairs, laughing hilariously as Malfoy muttered darkly under his breath.

Harry reminded Ron that Malfoy had been the one who'd stolen Neville's Remembrall in the first place, which resulted in Harry getting on the team, which lead to Harry getting this beautiful new broomstick—

Hermione was standing in the portrait hole, arms crossed, cheeks puffed out in frustration. She did not approve of them getting a reward for breaking the rules.

Harry reminded her that she wasn't supposed to be speaking to them. Ron told her he much preferred when she kept silent, which made Hermione huff and stomp away.

Chrys felt bad. "Maybe I should go and talk to her," she mumbled. Ron shook his head.

"Na, just give her some space and she'll cool down eventually. Anyway, she's not angry with _you_, right?" Chrys nodded hesitantly. "Then you'll be fine. Come on Harry, let's get a look at that broom."

Chrys caught sight of Ron's watch. "We better go," she said, "Or else we'll be late for first period."

"Oh Chrys, don't be a downer, let's just—"

"No, she's right," Harry sighed. Ron looked like a dejected puppy. Harry patted him on the shoulder. "We can open it later, that'll give us something to look forward to."

"Thanks for letting me get to class on time," Chrys whispered, as Ron made a show of walking down the stairs as slowly as possible.

"No problem," Harry replied. "I know you've been worried about Hermione getting on your case." Chrys winced.

"Yeah. Hermione was the first friend I ever made on my own. You know, I think Ron likes me alright…"

"I'm sure he does."

"But he liked you first," Chrys finished.

"Ah. I get it. Don't worry, you and Hermione will be fine."

And Harry was right.

Once Chrys got used to having two close friends who hated each other, she became quite adept at splitting her time between the two of them.

Meanwhile Harry had started his secret Quidditch training. His building Quidditch obsession was welcomed wholeheartedly by Ron, but no matter how Harry gushed about the rush he felt when flying, Chrys refused to get on a broom. So Harry and Ron, ate, slept and breathed Quidditch while Chrys spent a lot more time studying than she would have liked.

Still, there were benefits of this. As Harry and Ron were busy, they had no problem leaving Chrys to spend time studying with Hermione. Hermione was a lot more cheerful when she studied, especially now that Ron practically ran in the opposite direction whenever Chrys mentioned the homework.

Another benefit was that, by the time Halloween came around, Chrys had solidified her place as second in the year.

This annoyed Malfoy to no end, as he was only in third place. He and Chrys occasionally leveled out into a tie, but no matter how hard he tried, the Slytherin bully could not best Hermione.

Chrys considered this an added advantage. Surprisingly Hermione did not argue. After what he did to Chrys, Hermione loathed Malfoy almost as much as Harry did. Getting better grades than him was within the confines of the rules, so it was deemed an appropriate form of revenge.

The newfound motivation to study combined with the new exciting topics they were moving on to, made school a bit more fun in Chrys' eyes.

She chatted excitedly with Hermione as they sat down for charms. In fact, many people were looking forward to this class, which put Hermione in a fairly good mood. "I'm glad to see the rest of our house is finally taking an interest in academics," Hermione said superiorly.

Chrys didn't tell her that this was probably only because people enjoyed watching Professor Flitwick making Trevor the toad fly around the room.

"Now," Professor Flitwick squeaked. "Today we have a special lesson." A few people cheered. "We will be learning the Wingardium Leviosa charm, which is of course, great fun," he winked, "But it can also be quite disastrous when the movements and or pronunciation are incorrect." Then he showed them all the correct way to swish their wand, and what parts of the word to put emphasis on. Hermione was listening intently, but many students were otherwise preoccupied. Neville was trying to whisper something to Harry, Lavender was combing her hair, and Ron was sharing a joke with Seamus. "Now, let me split you up into pairs so that we can begin practicing…"

Chrys waved goodbye to Hermione and went to sit next to Neville. "Hi Nev, how long do you think it'll take for them to start screaming at each other?" She gestured at Ron and Hermione, who'd had the massive misfortune to be put together for this assignment.

Neville winced. "Maybe they'll get along today?" He said, over optimistically in Chrys' opinion. Dean, who was waiting for Pavarti to come back from the restroom, shook his head in exasperation. "I'd like to think that Neville, but the day those two get along is the day pigs fly."

"Then I'll just have to find a pig and cast this spell on it," Chrys joked. Dean and Neville laughed. Chrys sighed. Honestly though, she'd love for her friends to get along with each other.

Though, as she watched them, she thought this might be too much to hope for. Hermione had made herself the center of attention be the first to complete the spell, while Ron sulked in her shadow.

Then Seamus caused a slight diversion by setting himself on fire. "There he goes again," Dean said, half-amused and half-worried.

"It's okay," Chrys told him. "Harry's putting it out with his hat."

"And at least his eyebrows are still intact this time," Dean noted. Neville poked his feather in a bored sort of way.

"Concentrate Neville, you can do it…"

By the end of class, Chrys had successfully made her feather float into the air. She thought Neville had almost gotten it as well, but he spazzed out at the last moment, making it shot up into the air and get stuck somewhere in the candelabra.

"I'm sure you'll get it next time," Chrys told him, looking around to see where Hermione had gotten to. She spotted Harry and Ron instead, and rushed over to meet them. As she got closer and heard what Ron was saying, she became red hot with anger.

What's worse this was the exact moment Hermione showed up, sprinting past them, tears flying from her eyes. Harry quietly pointed her out to Ron, Chrys slapped him over the back of the head, but Ron just said, "Come on Chrys, it's no wonder why you're her only friend."

"Well it's a wonder that I'm still friends with you!" Chrys hissed, going after Hermione.

Chrys' chest felt tight. She wasn't sure what she was going to say to Hermione when she found her…but that was beside the point, she couldn't find Hermione anywhere.

Just then Pavarti came out of the bathroom, frowning and clutching her stomach. "Alright Pavarti?" Chrys asked, just realizing she hadn't seen her roommate since the beginning of Charms.

"What?" Pavarti looked up in surprise. She flushed lightly. "Well, yes…it just… I've got really bad cramps." She made a face.

"Oh…" Chrys trailed off awkwardly. They stood there for a moment, pointedly not looking at each other. "I don't suppose you've seen Hermione?"

"Actually, I have." Pavarti sounded concerned. "She came in, shut herself in a stall and has been crying ever since. I tried to talk to her, but she told me to go away. Maybe you'll have more luck?"

"I hope so," Chrys said, steeling herself for the difficult conversation. "Can you tell Harry I'll be back in class as soon as possible?" Pavarti nodded. Chrys stepped inside the bathroom.

The sobs echoed off the walls. Her footsteps mingled with the sound as Chrys got closer to the stall with two socked ankles showing through the bottom.

"P-Pavarti?" Hermione called out between gulps. "I t-told you to g-go away!"

"It's me," Chrys said quietly. Hermione's cries paused for a minute. Then the door swung open. Hermione looked horrible. She stood in front of the toilet, rubbing her red eyes frantically, as snot dripped out of her nostrils and her lips quivered. Hermione stumbled forward and allowed Chrys to cuddle her close. Chrys rubbed her back, not knowing what else to do. Slowly, Hermione's breathing regulated, and the aching screeches dwindled down.

"How can you be his friend?" She finally asked, her voice still shaking slightly. Chrys pinched the bridge of her nose.

"I asked myself the same question," Chrys admitted. "But he's just Ron. He's an idiot."

"That's not an excuse!" Hermione said fiercely. She sat up, untangling herself from Chrys. "Having a brain the size of a pea is not an excuse for being cruel…" Chrys frowned, feeling a little defensive, despite the situation. Sure Ron was an idiot when it came to emotions and subtleties, but he was intelligent in his own special way. "You know," Hermione started up again, closing her eyes painfully. "He reminds me of the boys who used to laugh at me in school. They pulled my hair, and threw my books across the room…and eventually it got so bad that my parents made me switch schools…but wherever I went it was pretty much the same, and being in so many schools only made it that much harder to make friends. I was so lonely. My parents considered home schooling, or moving to a new neighborhood, but then they would have to give up their dental practice, and I didn't want to be the cause of our financial support collapsing…I thought I could stick it out in one of the schools, maybe even try and graduate early…" Hermione smiled tearfully. "But then Professor McGonagall came to see us, and she told me that I was special and there was a place where I belonged…and for a moment I believed her."

"You do belong here," Chrys said hurriedly. "You're doing great. You're at the top of the class, and if anyone tries to throw your books I'll wingardum leviosa them up to the ceiling!"

Hermione choked out a laugh. Or was it another sob? "Thanks, but no thanks," she sighed, opening her eyes. "Maybe Ronald Weasley is right…maybe I'm not cut out for this friendship business."

"No, but you're a terrific friend." Chrys bit her lip, wondering how to convince Hermione that Ron was so far from right, that it was laughable.

"I'm not," Hermione said hollowly. "Here I am, stuck in the bathroom, dumping all my problems on you, making it awkward with one of your other friends—oh and now I've made you later for the next class!"

"I don't care. I'll sit here with you all day, if you want me to," Chrys said firmly.  
Hermione stared at her. The slightest of a smile twitched at her lips. "No need…why don't you go to class and take enough notes for the both of us? I'll try to come out when I'm ready."

"Are you sure?" Chrys was hesitant, but she knew how important attendance and notes were to Hermione. If Hermione was too upset to keep up her perfect streak, then Chrys had no right to force her to face the others. Hermione nodded. "Okay then." Chrys stood up and dusted off her butt. "But if you're not out by the time the feast starts, then I'm sneaking some pumpkin pasties back to you. None of my friends will starve if I can help it."

When Chrys got back to class she focused hard on taking notes, completely ignoring Ron's scowl and Harry's worried glances.

The three of them grew steadily more flustered as the day went on, until they were ready to burst.

Chrys kicked Ron in the shin.

"Ouch! What was that for?"

"You know very well what that was for," Chrys grumbled. "You should apologize to Hermione! She's really banged up by what you said."

Ron tilted his head to the side, his mouth opening slight. Then they entered the Great Hall and he caught sight of the decorations. "Wow!" He lit up right away, all thoughts of apologizing flying from his mind. Harry was tugging on Chrys' sleeve, bouncing up and down as he pointed out the real live bats, and talking jack-o-lanterns.

"Harry," Chrys said, gripping his arm.

"Isn't it amazing?" Harry said breathlessly.

"Yeah, spectacular, but right now I'm more concerned about Hermione." They sat down at the Gryffindor table.

Harry was unable to keep a smile from his face as the plates were suddenly filled with a magnificent feast. "I think Ron feels worse about it than he looks," Harry tried to reassure her as Ron cheered and startled shoveling food onto his plate.

"He'd better," Chrys sighed. "If he doesn't, I don't know what—"

She was promptly interrupted the screech of the Great Hall doors opening as Professor Quirrell ran between the tables, shrieking about a troll in the dungeons.

For a moment Chrys thought it was some sort of holiday themed prank. Then the screaming and chaos began. Students stood up and started scrambling fearfully towards the doors, nearly trampling poor Quirrell, who had passed out in the middle of the hall.

Professor Dumbledore brought things to a standstill by shooting purple sparkles into the air.

He told the prefects to take the students back to their dorms. Percy jumped up and started calling out order immediately.

Harry was shocked into silence. Ron was thinking along the same lines as Chrys, wondering if Peeves had let the troll in as a joke.

Chrys shrugged. "I don't think so. Magical creatures are somewhat of an interest to me, and from what I've read about trolls I don't think they—"

"Shush," Harry cut her off, throwing a hand over her mouth. "You're rambling."

"Yeah, you sound like Hermione," Ron added. "Just let Percy—"

"Hermione!" Harry and Chrys hissed in a terrified unison.

"What?" Ron frowned.

"She's still shut up in the bathroom!" Chrys said. She bit her lip so hard she tasted blood.

"She doesn't know about the troll," Harry added, looking left and right before slowly ducking out of the crowd. Chrys followed, glancing back at Ron questioningly. Ron sighed, but agreed to come along as long as Percy didn't see.

They slipped in with the Hufflepuffs and then snuck off through an empty corridor. "The girl's bathroom is just around this corner." Chrys pointed. She froze at the sound of footsteps. Ron was worried that it was Percy. He grabbed the twins and they all crouched behind a statue of a griffin. "That's not Percy," Chrys frowned. "It's Professor Snape."

Harry pointed out that the teachers were supposed to be going to the dungeons to fight the troll. Why was Snape heading to the third floor? Ron shrugged. Chrys started sneaking forward.

"Wait," Ron said, putting his arm up to block her. Chrys glared. "No, just wait. I think I smell something…"

Harry took a whiff and pinched his nose. "Gross. Smells like toilets and Uncle Vernon's socks."

"And that sounds like Uncle Vernon," Chrys squeaked in fear, as the sound of grunting and heavy footsteps came down the hall. Ron gestured at the far wall, where an enormous shadow flickered ominously.

Harry covered Chrys' mouth again, preventing her from screaming as they caught sight of the disgusting beast.

It was about a foot taller than Hagrid, and would have towered even higher had it straightened its hunched back. It hobbled forward, one huge arm pulling a wooden club across the floor, the other hand reaching up to scratch the grey, hairless, peeling skin on its head.

Chrys felt dizzy from the sight and smell of him. She tried to stay back as it forced its way through a doorway, but Harry and Ron tiptoed after it, dragging her with them. Harry spotted the key in the lock and slammed the door shut. Chrys gasped in wide-eyed horror.

"Open it. Help me open it right now!" She shouted, fumbling with the key. Her hands were sweaty and uncoordinated in her distress.

"What? Did the stench drive you mad or something?" Ron wondered.

A horrible scream rang out from inside the room. "This is the girl's bathroom," Chrys said, finally getting the key to turn in the lock.

"Hermione!" Harry and Ron shouted in realization, helping Chrys pull open the door.

The three of them raced inside, just in time to see Hermione, sinking down against the wall, trying to make herself as small as possible as the troll grunted and came towards her.

Harry decided to confuse the troll, grabbing a piece of broken sink and chucking it at the monster's head.

The troll stopped, and turned laboriously, eyeing Harry before choosing to come at him instead.

Ron ran over to the other side of the room, shouting at the troll. Chrys loosened a broken pipe from the wall. Dirty water sprayed out all over the floor as Ron threw the pipe hard at the troll. Now the troll went for Ron, leaving Chrys enough time to grab Hermione and pull her towards the door.

Hermione wasn't making it easy. She was frozen by fear, which was understandable, but possibly deadly. Harry grabbed her other arm and hoisted her up, as Ron continued to make loud noises to distract the troll.

Unfortunately for Ron, he was now backed into a corner. Harry took one look at the situation, let go of Hermione, and ran straight at the troll, propelling himself onto its back, hanging precariously by its neck.

"Harry!" Chrys yelled, not knowing whether to laugh or cry as Harry shoved his wand up the troll's nose.

The troll's scream was ear piercing.

It was beyond angry now, moving around frantically, trying to get Harry off its back. Chrys tried to get closer, but Hermione held her arm in a vice grip. Chrys turned imploringly to Ron.

Ron took a deep breath and shouted out the levitation spell.

Chrys cringed, expecting the spell to go wrong.

This time it worked perfectly. The troll's club came soaring out of its hand and slapped against its head loudly. Chrys cheered as the troll fell with a splash.

Hermione finally let go of Chrys, asking if the troll was dead.

Harry announced that it seemed to be knocked out. He pulled his wand out troll's nose, wiping the residue on its trousers. Chrys ran over and gave Ron a tight hug. He was tense and unresponsive, still holding his wand up as if someone might attack at any moment.

"Well done mate," Harry said, patting him on the back. Hermione smiled encouragingly. "Imagine the points we'll win for defeating a troll!" Harry bounced on the balls of his feet, grinning. Then he stopped suddenly, frowning. "Someone's coming," he announced, raising his slimy wand. Ron gripped his wand more tightly. They turned. A group of professors rushed into the room. Professor McGonagall's lips were pressed together in a thin white line. Professor Quirrell saw the troll and collapsed against onto a toilet. Not for the first time, Chrys wondered how the little turban man had become a defense professor. Professor Snape knelt down to examine the troll more closely. "Forget about those points I guess," Harry whispered to Chrys.

Professor McGonagall lectured them in a tone so cool and calm that Chrys felt ice build up in her heart.

Snape studied them critically. Chrys met his eyes defiantly, which made him scowl.

Then Hermione spoke up. She told the professors that Ron and the twins came looking for her, because she had gone looking for the troll, thinking she could defeat it and win some house points. Ron dropped his wand in shock. Chrys picked it up automatically, trying to stop herself from smiling. Hermione explained that Ron and the twins had saved her. She'd be dead by now if it weren't for them.

This was the first time Chrys had ever heard Hermione lie…and she had never been more proud of her friend.

Professor McGonagall took some points off from Hermione, before sending her up to Gryffindor tower to finish the feast with the rest of their housemates. Then she rewarded Ron and the twins five points each…. for their astounding luck.

Harry's mouth fell open, but he closed it quickly, trying to look innocent. He failed epically.

Snape's eyes narrowed, but he stayed silent.

The twins, and Ron quickly scampered out of the room and started up the stairs.

Ron broke the silence by complaining that they could have received more points for their actions. It was good for Hermione to get them out of trouble, but they had saved her after all. Harry pointed out that they were the ones who put her in danger to begin with.

When they came through the portrait hole, Hermione immediately tackled Chrys in a hug, and awkwardly thanked the boys. Harry and Ron thanked her in return. Then they all piled their plates high with food. A few people sent them curious looks, none more so than Percy, but with so much food and excitement, everyone got full and sleepy, and soon the common room was empty except for the four friends sitting in front of the fire.

They stayed like that until the fire was low. Harry's head lolled onto Chrys' shoulder.

"We should get to bed," Hermione suggested. "It's been a long day." They stood up.

Ron rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, listen, Hermione…I know I said something things and…well, I was wrong…and um…" Ron shuffled his feet, opening and shutting his mouth, but nothing else came out.

"I think that's as close to an apology as you're going to get," Chrys said, amused.

Hermione tilted her head thoughtfully. "I'll take it," she decided.

"So um…friends then?" Ron said, holding out his hand. Hermione shook it.

"Friends," she agreed.

Harry smiled, patting Ron on the back in a proud sort of way as they filed up the stairs.

While they were getting ready for bed, Chrys got it into her head that Hermione hadn't eaten enough at dinner. She pulled the last bit of her emergency licorice out of her pocket, wiped away the lint, and tried to coax Hermione into eating it.

"Oh, it's nice of you to offer, but I've already brushed my teeth," Hermione tried to say. Chrys continued to poke her cheek with the licorice wand. "My parents are dentists, they wouldn't want me eating sweets at all, and especially not right before bed," Hermione reminded her.

"And I'm sure your wouldn't want you fighting trolls or lying to teachers either." Hermione squirmed uncomfortably. "Eat it," Chrys ordered. Hermione sighed and dutifully ate the licorice wand. "There now, that wasn't so bad."

"It's a little dusty," Hermione said, in an act of rebellion.

"Are you insulting my licorice?" Chrys raised her hands to her mouth in mock horror.

Hermione raised an eyebrow tauntingly. "Yes." The two of them dissolved into laughter.

* * *

**And on we go.  
**


	11. Of Stomach Aches and Distractions

**Here's another chapter. I have a couple of these written, but they need some more editing so...well anyway, thanks for your great response so far!**

**I don't own _Harry Potter._**

* * *

The Potter Twins and the Sorcerer's Stone:

**Chapter Ten: **Of Stomach Aches and Distractions

* * *

Chrys leaned forward, her breath creating fog against the windowpane. She wiped it away with the sleeve of her Weasley sweater, so she could see the vista she was drawing. She was momentarily preoccupied by the warm softness of her sweater, until Harry accidentally kicked her side. "Hey!"

"What?" Harry looked up from the pages of _Quidditch Through the Ages_. "Oh, sorry, just trying to get comfortable."

"This is my window seat you know. There isn't really enough room for two people."

"I don't see your name anywhere," Harry teased.

"Hmmm…" Chrys dipped her quill in her inkwell, stretching down and scratching the initials _CP_ onto the cold stone beneath the puffy cushions of her favorite window seat. "There." She grinned evilly at him. Harry rolled his eyes and glanced out the window.

"Look, it's Hagrid." He pointed. Chrys squinted.

"So it is." She gathered up some more ink and sketched his large dark form striding across the Quidditch pitch. "What do you think he's doing?"

"Defrosting the broomsticks probably." Harry held up his Quidditch book."On particularly cold days, if you forget to defrost your broom before you fly, don't be surprised if you slip right off the end," he read.

"Well, as long as that doesn't happen tomorrow, you should be fine," Chrys said, thinking about his first ever match.

Harry groaned and face-planted onto his book. "I don't know what's worse, people telling me I'll be brilliant, or Malfoy telling me he'll be running around the pitch with a mattress just in case."

"At least we know he cares," Chrys said dryly. Harry snorted.

Just then Hermione came scurrying down the girls' staircase. Her bushy hair, thick black cloak and Gryffindor scarf waved out behind her. Still she shivered and wrung her hands nervously. "Sorry," she called out to them. "I couldn't find my mittens anywhere. My fingers are going to get frostbite."

Harry ran his hands through his hair. "You know, I think I saw Scabbers snuggling up with a pair of mittens near Ron's bed. Are they light blue with a little snowflake pattern?"

"Yes that's them." Hermione wrinkled her nose. "Though perhaps I don't want them back if Ron's rat has been using them as bedding."

Harry shrugged. "I'll go up anyway. I think Ron's probably fell back asleep."

Hermione watched him trudge gloomily up the stairs. "Is he still worrying about the match?" Chrys nodded. "Oh, I wish he wouldn't. He has the perfect build for a seeker, and there are rarely any serious injuries in school matches."

"Well… he has pretty low self-esteem," Chrys admitted. She shut her sketchbook with a snap. "Even if the facts are on his side, he's bound to obsess over all the little things that could go wrong. Basically he has an overactive imagination. Usually it's kind of funny, but at times like these…"

Ron came down the stairs, yawning widely. He chucked a pair of mittens at the girls. Hermione flailed wildly to catch them, but they ended up smacking her in the face. "Whoops." Ron yawned again. "Scabbers chewed a bunch of holes in them."

"I can see that." Hermione held them away from herself, frowning distastefully. "I guess it's time to say goodbye to my favorite mittens."

"Rest in peace," Chrys said mournfully.

Ron struggled with the clasp on his cloak. "Why do we have to go outside anyway?" He wondered.

"Hermione said it might clear my head," Harry mumbled, casting an anxious look out at the pitch. Chrys agreed. Any sort of distraction would be good for Harry at the moment.

"Oh well, alright then." Ron nodded, heading towards the portrait hole. "Though if we freeze our bottoms off I'm blaming it on you," he told Hermione.

"Don't you worry about your bottom," Hermione scoffed. "When I couldn't find my mittens I made this." She pulled a glass jar out of her robes. A little blue flame flickered pleasantly within.

"Pretty," Chrys said admiringly. She touched her fingers to the glass. "And warm." Ron held out his hands close to test it.

He grinned. "Nice going Hermione."

Hermione fumbled with the jar, almost dropping it before tucking it back into her robes.

As they went through the halls, she kept a hand over her robes, glancing back and forth suspiciously. Harry shot her a questioning look. "Well, _technically_ the rules state that magic can't be done in the halls and courtyard, so I should be able to cast magic in the dorm and bring it out with me…but an argument could be made against it."

"I see. So pretty much we can't let any of the teachers see it," Harry surmised.

"Pretty much," Hermione agreed. Chrys beamed at her. She appreciated how much more relaxed Hermione had become about the rules recently. Just a couple of weeks ago she would've reported herself to Percy for even thinking about breaking that rule.

They walked in circles around the courtyard, chatting comfortably, taking turns hiding the jar of fire underneath their cloaks, and huddling close to the person whose turn it was.

Chrys was pleased to see that Harry seemed to have cheered up a little bit. Stretching his legs, and laughing about the clouds of breath coming out of their mouths successfully took Quidditch off his mind for a little while.

Then Ron was got tired of walking in circles. They placed the jar on a bench, gathering around to block it from view.

"Oh great, here comes Professor Snape," Chrys noticed, jumping to her feet. The others followed suit, trying to look like they weren't hiding a possibly illegal object behind them.

"I wonder why he's limping," Harry said thoughtfully.

"I don't think he sees the fire," Hermione whispered, taking a couple of steps to the left.

"Maybe he won't come over here," Ron hoped.

"No such luck," Chrys muttered bitterly.

Snape didn't see the fire, but he chose to confiscate Harry's book instead.

"I'll say it again. This is my window seat. It's way too crowded with all of us here," Chrys commented, trying to poke Harry out of the way. Harry was distractedly looking over his charms homework.

"Well maybe if Ron didn't eat so much during supper…" Hermione deadpanned.

"Oi! Are you saying that I'm fat?" Ron sounded offended.

"I think that was a joke," Chrys laughed. "Right Hermione?" Hermione flushed and nodded. Ron rolled his eyes.

"Oh ha, ha."

"Anyway, what's wrong Harry? Don't you understand the corrections I wrote in?" Hermione asked tentatively.

"Hmmm?" Harry blinked as if coming out of a dream. "No… it's fine, thanks for looking it over Hermione, it's a big help." Hermione beamed.

"It'd be a bigger help if you'd just let us copy off of you," Ron grumbled.

"I told you, you'll never learn if you just copying my work!" Hermione huffed.

"I was just thinking I'd go get _Quidditch Through the Ages_ back from Snape," Harry interrupted their inevitable squabble.

Hermione and Ron exchanged a doubtful look. "Better you than me," they said in unison.

Chrys glanced at her charms homework. "Well, I think I'm all done with this, so I'll come if you like." Harry nodded gratefully.

The two of them left just as Ron and Hermione began arguing again.

"One moment Ron, your shoelace is untied."

"Hermione! I can tie my own shoelaces, thank you very much!"

"Well apparently you can't!"

Chrys snickered to herself as she cleaned her glasses on the bottom of her shirt. "So where are we going anyway?" She asked her brother.

"The staff room," he said immediately. "Snape might be forced to hand it over if we're surrounded by other teachers when I ask."

"…You know, you're usually the pessimistic one, but when it comes to Snape I think you have to be a bit more—"

"What about that slimy git?" George Weasley suddenly asked popping up behind them. Chrys and Harry jumped in surprise.

"Anyway, I doubt he'd approve of little firsties sneaking around this late," Fred added with an exaggerated yawn.

"We've still got time before curfew," Chrys argued.

"Details, details." They waved their hands dismissively.

"Just don't get caught by Flitch, he was running around in a foul mood…"

"Even more of a foul mood than usual that is."

"So watch your backs little Potters." They grinned and made their way up the stairs.

"We're not that little." Chrys frowned.

"They are taller than us." Harry shrugged. "The staff room's just up here." He stepped up and knocked…no answer. He knocked again, tapping his foot impatiently and then noticed the door was slightly open. "Maybe Snape left the book in there?" He wondered. He pushed the door open a little further and gasped.

Snape's leg was bare and bloody, ripped to shreds and barely being held together by Flitch's feverish attempt at bandaging. Snape didn't notice them at first, muttering to himself about those blasted three heads. Harry tried to close the door and sneak away, but Snape turned, saw them, and hissed in outrage.

Chrys tugged on his sleeve to go, but Harry bravely (stupidly) asked for his book back. Snape yelled at them to leave.

They ran back up the stairs, two at a time, panting heavily as they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"At least we didn't lose any more points," Chrys said, once she caught her breath.

"Yeah, Hermione would've killed us."

Ron greeted them cheerfully, and then realized something was amiss. "Wasn't Snape in the staff room?"

"Oh, he was there alright," Harry said, getting worked up. Chrys could practically see the gears whirring in his head. "His leg was injured though. That's why he was limping! And before we left we heard him say something about not being able to get past its three heads…" Harry hurriedly told them his theory that Snape must have been the one who let the troll in during Halloween, in order to steal whatever it was that the Cerberus was guarding, which is why he was heading to the third floor when he should have been in the dungeons.

Hermione was hesitant to accept this idea. Ron for one, agreed. It was Snape after all.

"Though unfortunately your theory has one giant hole in it," Chrys concluded before Hermione dragged her up to bed. "After all, we have no idea what the Cerberus is guarding, so we can't know why Snape would be after it in the first place."

"Did you see the look on his face though? Snape is definitely up to something," Harry insisted.

As soon as they got into their dorm, Hermione started rummaging secretively through her chest of drawers.

"What's up Hermione?" Chrys wondered as Hermione pulled a folded up sheet to her chest.

"Promise you won't tell Harry?" Hermione asked hesitantly. Chrys paused, and then nodded. "I needed to finish charming this." Hermione flicked it open. Chrys ooh and ahhed.

It was a beautiful banner with the words _Potter for President_ scrawled across it in large letters, with a lion smiling toothily underneath it.

"Who drew the lion?" Chrys wanted to know.

"Dean Thomas," Hermione said. "I would've asked you, but we only had a bit of time to ourselves when you and Harry were going to the staff room. Everyone has seen how nervous Harry is about his first match, so we all wanted to do something to cheer him on. It's quite good, isn't it?"

Chrys nodded. "Dean Thomas," she repeated admiringly. "What's with those holes though?" She asked, noticing some little puncture marks towards the side.

"The sheet was another one of Scabber's conquests," Hermione explained. "Ron was complaining about it so I reckoned we could turn it into something more useful."

"...Your attitude is incredibly refreshing after living with Harry for my entire life."

The next morning Harry was pale and wide-eyed. "Trouble sleeping?" Chrys asked sympathetically, filling his plate with sausages.

"A bit," Harry yawned. "My stomach woke me up at around five and I couldn't get back to sleep. It feels like I swallowed a roller coaster."

"Hang on, you feel like you swallowed a _what_?" Ron's knife hovered over his toast, butter dribbling down. Harry didn't answer. He blinked at the blinding sunshine pouring down on them from the ceiling, and sighed.

"It's a muggle entertainment ride thing," Chrys explained briefly. "Maybe you should eat something Harry. It could settle your stomach."

Harry shook his head. "No thanks. I think it'd just come right back up again."

"Ew," Lavender said from nearby, wrinkling her nose.

"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day," Hermione argued, trying to coax him into eating. Seamus and Dean chimed in as well, but Harry just continued to sit there silently with his mouth clamped shut.  
Eventually Chrys resorted to desperate measures, tickling his sides and shoving a bit of toast in his open laughing mouth.

Harry chewed resentfully. Chrys gave him a kiss on the cheek (which he rubbed off with a frown) before heading off to the bleachers with the rest of the spectators.

"Nice job on the lion by the way," Chrys told Dean as they unfurled the banner and held it out between them.

"Thanks," Dean grinned. "You're always drawing too right? I'd like to see some of what you've done."

"I'll show you some time." Chrys smiled back.

"Shush! It's about to start!" Seamus elbowed Dean's side as Madam Hooch blew her whistle.

The Gryffindor and Slytherin teams filed out from opposite ends of the pitch, the captains facing off to shake hands.

Flint, the tall, muscular Slytherin captain, shoved past Wood, all ready testing Madam Hooch's patience. "Oh I don't like the look of him," Hermione said nervously.

"We've survived worse," Chrys reminded herself.

"I think Harry's seen the banner," Ron spoke up.

"Good." Dean waved down at the pitch. The players clutched at their brooms. Madam Hooch blew her whistle again and they took off, the red ball tossed into the air and caught right away by one of the Gryffindor chasers. "Wow, this is almost as exciting as watching West Ham play!" Dean cheered. Chrys knew this was a big compliment coming from him.

"I'm touched," Seamus said, wiping an invisible tear from his eye. "Now pay attention."

It was good advice, but hard for Chrys to follow. The game moved so fast that within minutes she had no idea what was going on. Mostly she tried to keep an eye on Harry, but this proved just as difficult, as he had soared way up above the rest of the players, flying slow laps around the field.

"Havin' trouble seein' things Chrys?" Hagrid's booming voice came from somewhere to her left. She looked over and saw him struggling through the crowd. Seamus moved to give him some space, accidentally pushing Hermione into Ron's lap.

"Oi!" "Seamus!"

"Sorry Ron, Hermione." Seamus sniggered.

"Ya can borrow, these if ya like," Hagrid told Chrys once he settled down. She took the binoculars gratefully.

"What about me?" Ron asked enviously. "I want to see what Harry's up to."

"I think you'll be able to see that just fine even without the binoculars," Hermione said, gesturing at Harry who was now taking a magnificent dive head to head with the Slytherin seeker.

"Harry!" Chrys shrieked as the thuggish Marcus Flint rammed into him at the last moment.

The Gryffindor crowd roared up in protest. Chrys could see ever detail through the binocular lenses as Harry struggled to stay on his broom. She could even see Flint's smirk as the snitch got away. For a wild moment she considered chucking the binoculars at the Slytherin captain's head and wiping that smug look off his face, but then she remember her lack of aiming skills.

Madam Hooch awarded Gryffindor a penalty shot, but nobody was quite satisfied.

Dean Thomas wanted to send Marcus Flint off the field, and Hagrid groaned wishing they'd change the rules. The commentator, Lee Jordan, sounded personally affronted.

Chrys almost felt grateful in a way. She laughed bitterly at Lee's sour comments, trying to calm down and enjoy the game.

Though it was hard to relax with Harry in constant danger. Chrys stomach kept twisting in knots.

At one point he dodged a feral bludger and nearly fell off his broom again. Moments later his broom started bucking like an unbroken horse. He was zipping about in an uneven way that made Chrys want to grab Madam Hooch's whistle and stop the game.

Chrys clutched at Ron's arm. "Ron, is it possible to loose control of your broom?"

Ron cursed, distracted by Slytherin making a goal. "What? You mean Harry…wow that's weird…but he can't have? Right Hagrid?" Seamus wondered if Flint could've done something to the broom.

Hagrid was frowning deeply, his quivering hands balling into fists. He said it would have to be very dark magic to mess with something as powerful as broomstick enchantments.

"I'm borrowing these," Hermione said, snatching the binoculars away from Chrys, nearly strangling her. Chrys ducked out from underneath the strap, wondering why Hermione was searching the spectators, rather than looking at Harry who was now dangling off his broom by one hand.

Ron groaned, not complaining about Chrys' fingernails digging into his skin. Hermione flung the binoculars at him, telling him to look at Snape. Ron gasped. Chrys grabbed the binoculars from him. She frowned at the image of Snape staring heavily at Harry, pale lips speedily muttering. Hermione decided that he must be jinxing Harry's broom.

By now everyone had noticed Harry's plight. Neville was hiding his face in Hagrid's jacket. Dean and Seamus were standing up shouting. Ron panicked, wondering what to do. Hermione took the matter into her own hands, slinking off without a word. Chrys glanced back and forth between her two friends, torn between going to help Hermione, and staying to watch Harry. Ron seemed to guess at her dilemma. "Go on," he said, pushing Chrys away. "I'll keep an eye on him."

Chrys hurried after Hermione, barely able to spot her scurrying along the bleachers. "What can I do?" She whispered in Hermione's ear as they came closer to Snape.

"Distract them," she hissed back.

Chrys nodded, stopping short. She saw the high railing in front of the teacher's section of the bleachers. She clambered on top of it, standing tall with her arms outstretched. She heard gasps from behind her, Professor McGonagall's tense voice ringing out, "Ms. Potter! Get back into your seat you foolish girl!"

She heard footsteps and felt hands grasp at her robes, pulling her down just before she jumped out onto the field.

"Now Ms. Potter, I understand that you are upset, but you must not…" Professor Sinstra wrapped her arms around Chrys' waist, lecturing softly. Chrys was not paying attention. A brilliant blue blaze had broken out around Snape's robes. He jumped, trying to stamp them out. "Oh thank goodness," Professor Sinstra sighed as she looked up, releasing Chrys immediately.

Chrys slumped over in relief. Harry was back on his broom…but her relief was short lived. Now her brother was racing towards the ground at top sped, hands clamped over his mouth, face positively green.

He tumbled onto the grass on his hands and knees, head lurching… and out came the golden snitch. He held it up triumphantly amidst cheers of astonishment from the Gryffindors, and screeches of protest from the Slytherins.

"That's my brother," Chrys said proudly as Professor Sinstra had finished her lecture.

She ran back to Ron and Hermione hugging them fiercely. She clapped Neville on the back as he swallowed his tears. Ron was laughing hysterically.

"And by an astonishing turn of events—Gryffindor wins! The final results are Gryffindor's mighty one hundred and seventy points to Slytherin's measly sixty," Lee Jordan announced excitedly. "What a game folks, what a game!"

"Time for a cuppa I think," Hagrid suggested, standing up. Chrys, Ron and Hermione followed the path he made through the crowd, to Harry.

Harry let Chrys snuggle up against his chest as they sat down in Hagrid's cozy hut. Harry's stomach grumbled hungrily as Hermione handed out mugs of steaming hot tea. After they finished congratulating Harry, Ron explained how they saw Snape cursing the broom. Hagrid refused to believe that this is what had happened. He said Snape had no reason to do something like that to Harry.

Harry exchanged a look with the others. "Well, to tell you the truth Hagrid… Snape does have a reason to want to keep me quiet." Harry recounted how they found Snape severely injured, and about the Cerberus that must have attacked him.

At this the teapot slipped out of Hagrid's fingers, falling to the floor with a crash. "How do you know about Fluffy?" He wondered incredulously.

"_Fluffy?_" The four kids repeated, even more incredulous.

Hagrid told them how he'd brought Fluffy from a Greek man in a pub, and then lent him to Dumbledore to guard the… Harry interrupted in his excitement, bringing Hagrid back to his senses. Hagrid refused to say another word about this super secret. Harry argued that Snape was trying to steal the whatever-it-was. Hagrid thought this was nonsense. Hermione pointed out that Snape had just tried to kill Harry. After all, Snape had been keeping firm eye contact on Harry, which was essential for a jinx. Ron nodded approvingly at the venom in Hermione's voice.

Hagrid tried to end the conversation by saying that anyway, it was nobody's business except for Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel.

"Aha!" Harry and Chrys shouted. "So there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?" Harry grinned evilly.

Hagrid glared down at his shattered teapot.

That night Chrys and Hermione curled up side by side, flipping through the pages of _The Standard Book of Spells Grade 1_, whispering about the day's events. "Thanks so much for saving Harry," Chrys said gratefully. "Ron and I were running around like headless chickens, but you really thought on your feet."

Hermione blushed slightly. "Oh well…your solution was quite good too…though nerve-wracking. I was almost as distracted as the professors. Nearly all of them stood up and were staring at you, but Snape was still working his jinx so I did the first thing I thought of and set his robes on fire. Luckily with yours and Harry's combined distraction I don't think anyone noticed me… though I did bump into Professor Quirrell on my way over." She twiddled her thumbs guiltily.

"I don't care about Professor Quirrell's clumsiness, I'm just happy my brother didn't splatter all of the field."

Hermione grimaced. "Well, we'll just have to keep an eye on Professor Snape for the time being."

"And tomorrow we can go to the library and find out who this Nicolas Flamel is," Chrys added. Hermione clicked her tongue, frustrated. "What, aren't you curious?"

"Yes, I am. I just…I've never heard of this Nicolas Flamel person." She seemed almost embarrassed to admit it.

Chrys grinned. "If the great Hermione Granger has never heard of him, then it's all the more interesting."

* * *

**And that's all for now. Next up we have Christmas...**


End file.
